The Artist

Art is such a personal space

Where easels take a special place

Time stands still, mind performs

Visions of violent thunderstorms.

A pallet laid out rainbow shades

Brushes rags various blades

A blank canvas stands before

Awaits the artist to adore.

But as in life it’s not easy

At first you sit there bright and breezy

It’s then that you just realize

That you’re not Da Vinci in disguise.

Jpoet7 ( @wordverse.me )

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