The painter sees life with passion in its grandest splendor.
She notes the pedals of a rose, its texture, so soft and tender.
One look at a dazzling sunset and she is in awe.
She applies it to canvas without a single flaw.
When she sees a child busy at play,
This captured moment, within her mind will stay.
The horizon is more to her than length and breath.
Imagination sustains her, without it would be certain death.
Does the painter ever have limitations that hold her down?
Do her wings that are clipped ever keep her on the ground?
Limited only by her beautiful imagination she applies the paint.
Soon, a NEW day will dawn and any and all pain will be gone.
The painter sees beauty in all the universe has to offer.
And she finds wondrous treasures within natureís coffer.
We, who havenít the talent, are SO thankful for her gift.
For our spirits, with her paintbrush, she is able to lift.