The Artist

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As he sits with paintbrush in hand,

A new day arrives.

He has work to do.

Each new day is a blank canvas

And with it brings a whirlwind of ideas

Waiting to escape his increasingly colourful mind.


He starts to paint, subtle at first,

Unsure about where his mind will take him.

Growing in confidence, his artwork comes to life.

The sky is the perfect shade of blue.

Individual clouds sculpted with care,

Hanging in the sky in harmony

Each drop of rain falling peacefully from them, bringing life.

The wind parts the clouds and his spotlight shines

Illuminating his day's work.


As night approaches, the artist must get back to work.

Every sunset is a masterpiece, crafted with skill.

The colours blending together, creating great beauty.

Red, yellow, orange, auburn.

He chooses his palate with warmth in mind.

Each brushstroke must be flawless,

The final burst of colour before night falls.

As night appears, there is no rest for the artist yet.


He paints the night sky with tones of brilliant black

And he places each newly polished star delicately in the void.

He adds the finishing touches;

The moon gets a smile painted on his face,

Overlooking the artwork before him.


The artist takes a step back and smiles,

He can finally rest.

He places his paintbrush aside and relaxes.

With his is mind already buzzing with ideas, he sleeps.

He dreams of what tomorrow will bring,

What colours he will use, what harmonies he will create.

His mind eases and he is a peace until dawn breaks

And he gets back to work.


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