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Hunting A Soul.
#WritcoPoemChallenge
Bold strokes of a confident hand,
The painting is a masterpiece,
Executed as planned...
Yet, it seemed incomplete.
The colours were fine,
It demanded a soul.
For a mere novice painter, it was a burden too much to hold.
He treaded down the lanes, the farms, the cities,
but couldn't find his muse, took home a reluctant defeat.
Pondered and wailed, fidgeting through the sleepless nights,
Held his brush again, "I shall do this!", he promised this time.
The maiden peered through the frame, confused and unsettled,
bravely she asked, "What was she doing here, in this vast, fruitless field with a basket and a kettle?
The question went by unanswered till the tired, impetuous man decided,
A butterfly on her hair could do the trick, a lovely bride, alas, was the weakness of every dick.
#poemchallenge
© Samiksha Kemwal
Bold strokes of a confident hand,
The painting is a masterpiece,
Executed as planned...
Yet, it seemed incomplete.
The colours were fine,
It demanded a soul.
For a mere novice painter, it was a burden too much to hold.
He treaded down the lanes, the farms, the cities,
but couldn't find his muse, took home a reluctant defeat.
Pondered and wailed, fidgeting through the sleepless nights,
Held his brush again, "I shall do this!", he promised this time.
The maiden peered through the frame, confused and unsettled,
bravely she asked, "What was she doing here, in this vast, fruitless field with a basket and a kettle?
The question went by unanswered till the tired, impetuous man decided,
A butterfly on her hair could do the trick, a lovely bride, alas, was the weakness of every dick.
#poemchallenge
© Samiksha Kemwal
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