The Art of my Heart,
Is not mine alone,
It is a bounty blessed from the Lord above
Given to me, like knowledge just popping up which I previously have never known.
It is a pleasure, but tedious sometimes to fulfill.

Passion, as flowing as the river
Which I know can become still, like a lake.
Just swirling and chopping in the same spot,
But when the rainstorms come,
And thunders with the sweetest breath of intoxicating delightful...