His muse smiled …
It never seemed there were dreams enough,
it never seemed that people cared.
He was a silent and quite painter,
who painted what he dreamed of.
All of the fantasies he had
and the childhood dreams –
that he lost along the way,
came alive in colors of oil.
He painted with his heart and soul,
often wondering what people saw –
like a poet wonders,
what people find to like –
in his poetic words.
When they looked at his paintings –
Were they just seeing what was painted there?
or Did they travel into his fantasy world as well?
Along came his muse,
the ideal of all of his dreams.
She was just what he needed,
to make all of the colors so true
and his paintings seem real.
Suddenly he could break lose,
step out into the real world
and paint like he had never painted before.
What a difference she made,
his muse came along just in time.
There was no reason or rhyme,
why she had finally come
or from what centuries past,
but she knew how to inspire
and make all of his best dream last –
until his brush had captured it all,
upon a canvas of white.
Now he painted the colors that she represented,
the colors that came to his mind
and the wonderful pictures that sprang forth.
When his muse was by his side,
no longer the dark dismal feelings,
no longer the tears that stained his paintings.
Now there were sunrises and sunsets,
there were flowers ,
seascapes, forest settings
and happy nature scenes.
There was the love that exploded on canvas,
that came from within –
when his muse was by his side.
Nothing was too difficult,
suddenly he had been released ,
from all the darkness that had him chained,
all of those brooding thoughts,
and he was in awe,
of what appeared on his canvas.
His muse smiled
and brought the sunshine,
into his life.
There was nothing he couldn’t do,
now that life was beginning anew.
It all happened that wonderful day,
when his muse captured his soul
and stole his heart away.