Words
tumble on the page
Falling
simply into place
Create
the landscape of his dreams
Another
time, another place
As
they stumble in the silence
Maelstrom
whips around his world
And
the beauty in his writings
By
the masses are not heard
Ink
flows from quill unbounded
Careful
lines become complete
Paint
the story in his mind’s eye
Full
of wonder, soft and sweet
As
the parchment sucks the palette
Storms
thunder through his tale
And
the eloquence of artistry
Unseen
by many they fall pale
Splinters
fall on the wooden floor
What
shape remains takes form
Chipping
away at blank canvass
From
inanimate new life is born
As
chisels carve their images
Tornadoes
rip apart the dream
And
the careful crafted paintings
Fed
to pyres, sight unseen
Voices
reaching out with hope
Sweet
timbre tones reflective
Words
that flow without remorse
That
picture life’s perspective
As
the artist’s tell their stories
Hopes
blown and left unpinned
All
their voices remain merely
Whispers
in the whirlwind
©
Fergus Martin
2012
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