Black Poetry : The Painter

Mario William vitale

Well-Known Member
MEMBER
Jun 6, 2017
267
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The Painter
I saw the artist paint with brush,
The setting sun, the lengthening shade
The near and further distant hills,
The valley where the lily shows its blade

And hides the nest of the noble thrush
He painted the valleys with their streams,
The giant oak and the stately pine
The quaking aspen leaves afloat

The evening breeze of summertime
And he left me standing lost in dreams
He mixed his colors in varied hue
As clouds suspended from the sky

From swaying limbs where the robin sings
And the eagles nest in mountains high
Beneath a sky of azure blue
It's here the artist stops and stands

Spellbound, he cannot overcome the spell
The sun, now set, has changed the scene
With different colors in the dell
He cannot match the master's hand
 
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