Ode to Art

Beauty lies
In the eyes
Of the beholder
And no matter
How hard I try
I cannot move this boulder
That represents my passion
My overwhelming obsession
With these fine paints
Or those fine brushes
With delicate pens
And radiant ink washes
I can hardly keep it in
My crave for their possession
Magnificent paintings
To clay figurines in ballet positions
The soft surface of oil paint
The rough ridges of sandstone
Textures my fingertips yearn for
A love to which I've grown
So much more than accustom to.
Upon my walls hang
Portraits of tomorrows Van Gogh
Within the museum walls
Are testimonies of those who know
How a pencil is a masterpiece
Just waiting for you to look
How its magnificence is opened
By a piece of paper from a sketchbook