02-03-2017, 04:08 AM
I like this poem. It is an imaginative way to view a painting and the colors used.
I like how it suggests something of the struggle and involvement the artist undergoes in his or her creation.
My only suggestion is that using the word ‘color’ less often in the first half, may have strengthened it.
Overall, a delightful and interesting poem.
The Artist splashed color onto the page,
Her salty tears gave complexity to the colors she brushed on the page.
As they dripped into the colors,
Each color thanked her for making them come alive......Each thanked her
Blue said,
“I yearned to be the color of the skies,
The color of rushing waters,........................the frenzy of rushing water
Your tears showed me the way”.
Green then exclaimed,
“The color of the leaves in Spring were but an image,
But your being poured into mine,
With each drop I become the very thing I sought”.
Yellow,
With its bright gaze upon the sky,
“I blinded myself searching for what gives the Sun its radiance,
However it is your warmth that makes me glisten on the page.”
And Red,
Whose deep and passionate color came from the blood of the artist herself,
Did not speak words at all,
But only danced across the page,
As the artist and her masterpiece became one.
I like how it suggests something of the struggle and involvement the artist undergoes in his or her creation.
My only suggestion is that using the word ‘color’ less often in the first half, may have strengthened it.
Overall, a delightful and interesting poem.
The Artist splashed color onto the page,
Her salty tears gave complexity to the colors she brushed on the page.
As they dripped into the colors,
Each color thanked her for making them come alive......Each thanked her
Blue said,
“I yearned to be the color of the skies,
The color of rushing waters,........................the frenzy of rushing water
Your tears showed me the way”.
Green then exclaimed,
“The color of the leaves in Spring were but an image,
But your being poured into mine,
With each drop I become the very thing I sought”.
Yellow,
With its bright gaze upon the sky,
“I blinded myself searching for what gives the Sun its radiance,
However it is your warmth that makes me glisten on the page.”
And Red,
Whose deep and passionate color came from the blood of the artist herself,
Did not speak words at all,
But only danced across the page,
As the artist and her masterpiece became one.