To Paint a Poem
With brush stroking mind,
Dabbing colored thoughts to paper.
Some, dark grey and brooding;
Then gold glitters in brain's eye.
My friend in well lit corner,
Waiting for written voice to settle there.
Drawing pictures with words never spoken;
This heart poses naked before its audience.
Aware of that cynical-eyed crowd,
Mona Lisa smiles hiding their hatred.
My imagination reflected
For better or for worse.
One man's dreams just hanging there,
Framed without having time to dry.
Lasting only briefly on canvas air;
One breath and the page turns to forget.
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn A.R.R.
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