The black dark charcoal in my hand
Comes to life when it kisses the canvas
Together they tell untold tales ,
It dances on the canvas and brings out
The hidden contours of stories which are sleeping there
Only to be awakened by the touch of the charcoal on the canvas or
A sheet of paper that is waiting for the touch
Of my thoughts,my pencil,my charcoal and my brush
Comes to life when it kisses the canvas
Together they tell untold tales ,
It dances on the canvas and brings out
The hidden contours of stories which are sleeping there
Only to be awakened by the touch of the charcoal on the canvas or
A sheet of paper that is waiting for the touch
Of my thoughts,my pencil,my charcoal and my brush
No comments:
Post a Comment