The Masterpiece Poem by Lone Dog

I wish I had the skill to work
With oils and palette knife.
The talent to, with artist's brush,
Make canvas come to life.

But I was not endowed with gifts
As well bestowed as these,
And thus am forced to paint in words
A picture no one sees.

My palette board is just a pad;
My pigments, metaphors;
My brush, the pen with which I swirl
New thoughts that I explore.

Yet, I can splash on reds and golds
In words that outdo oil,
And add a tender thought that can't
Be matched by artist's toil.

I labor long, retouching oft,
`Till eyes are tired and blurred;
Amazed that I've the skill to paint
A masterpiece of words.