The painter, paints away as he watches the day sail away.
For our sweet loving painter has lost his way.
Drifting on blank pages, no color will stay.
Time is but an obstacle that only brings challenges your way.
One who may create for passion can fall into hard.
When they try to appease the masses.
Instead of just being who they are.
I send this message to my dear painter.
How do you create your new way?
Stay here a little longer.
And remember this mantra.
Life flows smoothly around you and you're at peace.
Lost in his work, he's mine, alas he cannot draw.
The painter works too hard to appease them all.
His hands have become injured.
Torn, sore, and brused.
But he will never stop. . .
For the painter wants to create, and so he never takes a break.
My dear painter, I've been searching for you.
I promise you can rest your uneasy soul.
Let your head lay in my lap and your worries in my arms.
It's okay to relax and it's okay to be sad.
Don't rush your life's work.
Let your mind open, and explore your own world.
There is more beauty and more wonder you are meant to behold.
Blessings will fall upon you.
You may rest your soul.
Let peace and happiness find you.
For I have so much more in store.
(Kk.) Come see.
-BM
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Poet - A Lovers Tale
PoetryA lovers Tale - Part Three There comes a time when you start to ponder. You wander down a curious path. Filled by the muse of a lovers dance. As time moves on the story continues onto a new tune.
