by Jane Chen
The terror!
Today was the day,
The lovely little lady lines up her painting onto the easel.
Beside her she places,
Various tools of all shapes and sizes,
And as she braces,
In her head, she criticizes:
How must I start?
Splat!
A bucket of bright paint,
Changes the canvas.
And as she stares she feels more feint,
But as she thinks she couldn’t be more thankless,
A picture forms in her mind,
A dining room.
Her head began to unwind,
She began to see an aglet bloom,
And she now scrambled to get a brush,
Eager to record her thoughts through expression.
Her sight dissolved and her face began to flush,
And her own hand moved without her permission.
Everything went black,
But as soon again she arised,
Everything coming back,
And then she realized;
A garden snake slithered in through the window,
And the rain pattered down on her house with no sorrow
The plates perfectly lined up on the table,
Yet she had no clue as to why she was still stable,
But after a few seconds she sat,
Pondering the art that she had just scrapped.