A painter I am not

November 7, 2011

A Bad painter I would be

Once while fetching water from a stream,

I slipped. Into imagination

A world where Red is me

and colourless everything else

A complete me creating the world around

What colours would I fill it with?

I took the brush, dipped it in the colour blue

Blue was my sky, a clear blue sky

I dipped it again, this time in white

White was my mountain a pure white Now, in green for my meadow wide

Green and lush and prosperous

Then the roads, "brown", I said, and it was so

Alas! it was complete.

Then I looked at it and sprinkled random colours.

"Too perfect it was," I chuckled.

I like a grey in the blue sky, I realised

The black in the snow is just perfect

Some browns in the greens is how it should be

Make rocky my path, a lil thorny too

Let my feet bleed and let that give me colour

I am a bad painter, I realise!

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