Words dance across the canvas of my mind,
Brushstrokes of meaning, colors of sound.
In poetry's rhythm, art is defined—
Where image and language are forever bound.
The painter speaks in textures, light, and shade,
The poet paints with metaphor and rhyme.
Both cast their visions that will never fade,
Standing defiant against the rush of time.
A sonnet blooms like petals on display,
A portrait captures silence between breaths.
Each stanza and stroke has something to say
Of beauty that outlives a thousand deaths.
In galleries of verse and painted dreams,
We find ourselves reflected in the streams....
Continue reading...