THE ARTISTS CREATION BY FIONA CUMMINGS

THE ARTISTS CREATION

BY FIONA CUMMINGS

 If I could see

 What would life be like for me

I ponder on this as I sit

 Under the almost bare autumn tree

For sure I would not use the word quit

As a miracle gave me wings to fly free

The gold crisp leaves form a carpet

As the changing sky turns to scarlet

Before I was given the gift to see

This picture was just a dream to me

An artist sat with me with his blank canvas

Telling me, I was his brush

Before I had been dipped in a jar of water

Feeling like I was to paint

A sacrifice of a slaughter

As no colour was shown

Just drips so faint

Where was this brush going?

What picture was it showing

I really didn’t know

It was like a nightmare unfolding

Ever so slow

I was told my eyes were blue

 And hair golden

I knew that to be true

But to see in a mirror was stolen

Then I felt the colours

I was one of those flowers

The deepest shade of purple

I felt the artist kiss my pupil

And light was placed upon the paper

The artist, my creator

Became my sights, illustrator