I walk,
A thick brush
Paints my way

I cross,
An inked bridge
My feet black

I stop,
The black brush
Paints a crossroad

I sit,
days pass by
As I ponder

I decide,
A blackened path
Walking on ink

I wait,
The brush draws
More diverging paths

I reach,
Holding the brush
Snapping in half

I look,
My body covered
In black ink

I walk,
My body blackened
My path white

he painted flourishing gardens
and stunning landscapes
using a palette of superb
colour drapes

in his homeland they toast
him with champagne
for his canvases hang
in their art gallery's lane

his works are worth
many millions of dollars
and they've been studied
by generations of scholars

of the impressionist style
was he
he had brush daubing
down to a tee

paint me a picture
if you possibly can
that will tell me
of this creative man

use your brush
whether it be cracked or stained.
use it to paint a picture
that shows people why
they are made.

use it to write the words
that went unspoken.
use it to keep your mind
from swirling murky clouds
making you broken.  

paint me a picture
to explore what you do;
not for me to judge
but to admire what  
the Lord has poured into you.

~ share your gifts.

Life is a natural  painting,
Make it lively and stimulating.
Use strokes of hope,
Tone it with varied patience,
Texture it with kindness,
Brush it with confidence,
Use exotic colours of love and care,
Happiness and laughter.
23/3/2019

Three months later
And I still find
Your curly black hair
In my brush
In MY brush
Because for some reason
Three months later
I can't be rid of you
When I think I'm done
When I think I'm over
Clear
Fresh
Finally finished
Thoughts of you
Plague my mind
Memories flood me
Dreams arouse me
And I am
Overcome
I am yours
Once more
In those thoughts
Those memories
Those dreams
We're back
To the way we were
Happy
Loving
Wrapped in each other
Until I open my eyes
Shake my head
And scream
Scream at you
At the way
You ended things
The dream ends
And I remember
I'm just cleaning
A ******* hair brush