artist-in-his-studio-1626

Often art is what an artist feels;
The language which a poet writes.
Their emotions flow as a breeze;
Whispering into summer nights.

Sometimes what we poets feel;
Are colors which an artist paints.
The moments which we capture – seal
Allow us to with life acquaint.

The artist – left to gaze in awe;
What his strokes of paint created.
Poetry written – no error or flaw;
Hatred from the world had faded.

The moment which we long awaited;
Was nothing like we ever tasted.

 

 

Photo Credits:Β www.wikiart.org

Form: Ekphrastic

Posted on Sunday Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads

and Posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United