Wet and sweet
Your candy pink
glides atop rosy ice
a dead winter withered
swept upon your brush
turn pale to a veil
draped across a gentle form
each stroke clears cobwebs
from corners of a universe
color the wind of your world
Author notes
Part of my English Poetry project, all poems contained are about Art (no specific kind of art, just general).
This one's supposed to be a Concrete poem, but I obviously cannot make shapes on this site! It's swept across the page, as one would picture wind, or the stroke of a paintbrush.
Watching people paint fascinates me. It's beautiful.
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