cheryl davis miller

(2/26/57 / America)

The Canvas


I looked upon the canvas blank
my heart leapt 'neath my breast.
I lift my palette of mixed hues
my brush tip I caressed.

I pondered ore the empty span
mapped plans out in my heart.
I drew the brush across the plane
my vision fell apart.

How does one reach from mind to hand;
to express hearts desire.
How do you meld the two as one
'fore vision does expire.

For failure is a bitter pill
when dreams do fall apart.
For eyes grow dim and hands grow weak
from emptiness of heart.

What's left when dreams have fled the soul
and emptiness remains?
Except to bid this life farewell
and slip this sad life's chains.

c.d.m.2/11/14

Submitted: Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Edited: Wednesday, February 12, 2014
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