It craved compassion
And so
The canvas broadened
It's shoulder
So that there was
Enough space to
Lean and cry on.
The paint brush
Held its hand
Firm and tight
Assuring and Re- assuring
That it will never
Let it go out of it's
Sight.
The colors
Came flying and running
To hug it tight
To hold its shivering structure
With warmth and delight.
Waiting for your poetry book to be published. This poem is beautiful! Although the feeling would have been otherwise while writing, but you caught my nerves. Cheers, poetess! Proud of your work. You deserve the gleam of the sun, to spread the light of your art to the world.
ReplyDeleteHey Gagan!
ReplyDeletethank you so so much, I cant even tell you how much this means to me. All i can say is I am overwhelmed beyond expression.
It is just an attempt to keep the spirit of art alive till eternity.
Cheers! :D
Much love, luck and light :)