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There’s a canvas on the easel

It’s stretched tightly and held fast
Across it’s textured surface
In unseen shadows, shapes are cast.

The artist holds his palette

Stained with oils from yesterday
With new paint squeezed from tubes
Arranged there, in a special way.

On a shelf beside the easel

Lay brushes, paint, a knife
Some cleaner for those instruments
To bring that canvas to life.
With creative wheels turning
And a love for what he does
The talent of that artist
Transforms that cloth from what it was.

With the power of the mind

And sure strokes from steady hand
Shapes and forms start to appear
Into the beauty which was planned.

Then, through that labor of love

Framed and hanging on some wall
There’ll be another masterpiece
To bring great pleasure to us all.

Del “Abe” Jones

Lynn Kohlman Lynn front to back

Donna Caron