The Poet that Paints Pictures with Words
An Artiste paints his pictures
With every stroke of his brush
Takes his time to see it through
He’s never in a rush
When his masterpiece is finished
He stands back to admire his work
Satisfied he has done his best
A bottle of wine he will uncork
He may have drawn his picture
Painted out his scene
Thinks that it’s so special
The best he’s ever seen
No luxury like that for me
I can only use a word
Describing what is in my mind
And things that I have heard
Paint a picture with my soul
Using only my imagination
Drawing a vision in my mind
And delivering it as a creation
The finished piece must always have
A beginning and an end
Like rhyming slang it has to say
What you did intend
Imagination is the key
To the words that come into my mind
Creating a masterpiece it would seem
Is a task so hard to find
An Artist has his colors at his disposal
I only have words to use
If he paints a classic picture
It’s always in the news
Bus a Poet’s work is more refined
Rarely in the public eye
No masterpiece created here
However I wonder why
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