A blank canvas waits every morning
as the sun begins to rise.
It waits for me to start thinking
of what today will be my prize.
Whatever it may be, I know
a new destination will come aboard
and my creations will be my guides to follow
to new adventures I will afford,
seeking and finding the colours and words
to fill in the emptiness of my blank canvas.
I enjoy the sentiments of this poem that seems perfect for those with writer's block. The last line fits so well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can totally relate to this poem, every morning is a blank canvas as I watch the sun rise in silent beauty. Great poem and imagery. RoseAnn