*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2006032-The-Artists-Touch
Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2006032
You can't rush nature. (Form: Burn's Stanza)
The Artist's Touch

A gentle rain from darkened sky;
the crickets sing a lullaby
in counterpoint to the wind's sigh.
The day ends in a hush.
Adieu, it says – not a goodbye.
There is no need to rush.

A touch of red fades into blue,
her pallet contains every hue,
as each creation starts anew;
an artist's master stroke.
Each night there is a new debut
that fades in shades of smoke.

Nature moves to her own cadence,
ignoring time's passing pretense -
against its strength there's no defense.
Her art cannot be rushed.
She knows the moment to commence,
each color softly brushed.



Divider line



An entry for the August round of "Verdant Poetry Contest - On Hiatus
Open Prompt
© Copyright 2014 🌕 HuntersMoon (huntersmoon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2006032-The-Artists-Touch