Upon first glance you look so dull,
A boring, lifeless thing.
With bristled hairs and scuffmarks, you really are quite plain.
But you and I know better,
We knew right from the start,
That you were meant for bigger things . . . .
Creating works of art.
Brilliant color flows from your tip,
And glides across the page.
It invokes a sense of wonder that I haven't felt in days.
Endless fields of yellow,
And orange rays of sun.
You're beauty and you're innocence all rolled into one.
From a gorgeous expanse of ocean
To a humble bumblebee,
You can illustrate so many things that some have yet to see.
A dark and brooding forest,
Or a cottage quaint,
Whenever I feel the urge to smile . . . .
I just grab my brush and paint.