I’ll take a brush,
I’ll paint the walls;
Ain’t gonna rush,
Just gentle strokes.
A canvas’ been hanging o’er the wall:
Its belly ready to swallow the portraiture.
And a frame longing to seal it up:
In an embrace, inseparable.
Matters it that I use words for colors?
Willst her image fail to appear?
Nay! Routes are endless.
But destination, same
Two full moons hold my imagery;
My tongue: my brush, dipped heartily in it.
Artistry in practice:
A painting that I alone have uniquely seen.
Serendipity crossed our paths.
I reached out to a damsel whose capacity exceeds storage.
A time and lunar times have passed,
Still she never fails to remain dear.
Pathetic, but true…
This painting’s not gonna end.
Ain’t seen the full picture yet,
Had beheld her plumage rose beyond status quo.
But the little I saw was yet of a lady;
Heart beating in the frequency of love.
Been through a lot, yet not lost.
Her walls always standing against the waves.
Full moon tells a lot.
Only an ironical large measure in two moons.
Her visage’s quite far from my canvas,
Yet my stencil has infinite hallowed words to her accolades.
When the tides falls,
The winds’ll cease.
When the rhythm stops,
I’ll hear the drumbeats wane.
The dance steps will halt,
And the lights’ll be out.
Yet will I remain… Indeed I will
Verily! From a distance I will watch.
From thence I’ll stroke my brush.
Written January 7th, 2017
For Maris Ezeh
Photo Credit: Gurney Journey: Unfinished Tademas