THE PAINTER’S HAND
The hand of the painter,moving here and there
Giving the paper a new destiny to bear
The ink enfolds the paper with loving care
Its perfection holds the eye in long stare
It speaks of what is: a reality
It tells tale of that which cannot be: a miracle
Tales which might never be till eternity
That reaches the soul without obstacle
A work of Art that rolls drop of love down our eyes
That moulds the face to a smile,to shine with our teeth
And grips the heart to a tighten,to let out a sigh
Setting free that long lock away,and Our being start to breath.
