Sable Brush Poems - Poems about Sable Brush

... Each day I wake as if I hold a sable brush in my hand ready to paint upon a canvas what cannot be planned. Or a pen to write about fantasies and adventures I find in playground of imaginatio......

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...Eight beautiful lines . Sponsored by Constance La France Posted 28 th March 2025 ~~~ Of all the portraits on the wall I gaze in awe , I stand and stare Her gent......

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...Ten swift turns of the calendar's pages bring me to November, when autumn breezes sweep clinging leaves from their trees. They lie in heaps on the ground, carpets of crimson and gold. ......

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...Colourful meadow on summer day Blue cornflowers vie with wild primrose Perfect poppies with elegant sway Peaceful place where beauty grows. Artist ponders this habitat Colours perused ......

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...The unwitting days of Autumn, And the carefree days of Fall— They bid farewell to Summertime, And without a care, at all. And were the Fall to think a thought, Whatever would it be? Other tha......

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...In my distal conception you shine like a lucent star whose touch fondles the fret and strings of my guitar. An image worth painting in oils with my sable brush, your voice like the recherche l......

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...On the shaded side of her morning room, invisible and silent, I watch at the window. Noon, softened by the pane, spotlights the dazzle white of art paper held taut by azure glass pins.......

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...Chased mercilessly over well- worn tar palpable loss pushes a sable brush dunked in dread a furious deluge of fear oozes out blackens every inch of familiar landscape what if’s eat......

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... ~ For Vienna ~ There once bloomed a Lotus Flower whose tears mingled with an evening shower. I saw her smile then slowly wilt and die In billowy clouds I search for her in the sky. ......

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...A canvas washed with pastel hues In palest pinks and liquid blues Perfection seen through Monet’s eyes Recounting where his genius lies The lilies floating on the lake The water, greenish blue opaqu......

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...She flowed out of his sable brush As if form became fluid Indigo blue the first of hues Each stroke a caress … A teardrop sliding down his face His memories piercing his heart Sighs and a ......

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