The Artist
Artfully, I've wrestled with large pieces of wood and stone.
This has in turn caused much pain to my muscles and bone!
Forming holders of light, made of wire and steel,
do nothing to make a tortured soul too rest and heal!
Flowers of copper with a base of wire
do nothing to ignite my heart on fire.
I have penned words of verse, tunes of poem
through valleys of sad and joy, still do I roam!
For at night without pain of both body and mind I wish to rest
however, still remain an artist, that what be my true request!
