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Old Wrinkled Lines.
Sonnet Song.
....
Whiskers of a brush in my hand like air,
Watching you walk through my painting in days,
Fellowship, while you look upon my flair,
It seems I'm just an ocean in a bay,
My Art as always been my brush in skies,
Old rusty wrinkled lines is all I am,
A single thread of feathers like dust and rise,
My lightning heart breaks open thunders damn,
But my forgotten soul will rest in Rome,
An art warrior that can build the Sea,
Old rustic strong brushes is my old home,
Wielding my katana feather in Chi,
Welcome is my fine painting, my home free,
My old wrinkled lines are the ocean seas.
.
designed by Balcar
© balcar
....
Whiskers of a brush in my hand like air,
Watching you walk through my painting in days,
Fellowship, while you look upon my flair,
It seems I'm just an ocean in a bay,
My Art as always been my brush in skies,
Old rusty wrinkled lines is all I am,
A single thread of feathers like dust and rise,
My lightning heart breaks open thunders damn,
But my forgotten soul will rest in Rome,
An art warrior that can build the Sea,
Old rustic strong brushes is my old home,
Wielding my katana feather in Chi,
Welcome is my fine painting, my home free,
My old wrinkled lines are the ocean seas.
.
designed by Balcar
© balcar
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