MY ART

a short poem

I'm at my desk and I flicker the lights

I reach for my pencil and begin at night,

The light of the day cast down on me makes me afraid of what you will see,

My pencil moves across the sheet, like an old friend I was happy to meet

I sweat and I snear at what I do  but in the end it always brings me to you,

The sight, the feel, the smell, the touch, my creation, my friend, my Art.