Unfinished

I set the frame upon the easel

And touched the brush to gesso’d cloth

I thought I’d paint you all a-flower

Or colored like a gypsy moth

But all the brush would find was blue

And only nighttime in the skies

And all my vision could construe

Was the sadness in your eyes

I remember you so sweetly

Wrapped in silver filigree

The brush defies those things completely

The only thing that it reveals

is what I feel…

is what I feel

I would have painted us in a river

Rushing on the snowy froth

Dancing down the current

Swirling in that broth

We’d be light upon the water

Prisms dancing in the sun

But all my palette finds is darker

Where the river’s course is run

….so I’ll put the brush away

and I won’t try to paint today