Beauty with A Paintbrush

In a room there is an empty canvas,

The artist is a lady; glamorous.

Yet once her heart was in captivity,

Her paint-brush dried and so ceased her activity.

K. Khan

She painted eyes, omitting the lies,

She painted lips, you would’ve wanted to caress,

You could’ve found yourself and become a mess

She painted scenes as dark as night or as bright as day

And she did it in her own definitive way.

K. Khan

Her movements were sinfully sensual,

Yet her work was naught but divine,

A mesmerising beauty with a paintbrush,

She was free, not yours or mine.

Yet while we thought she procrastinated,

She was in a reverie.

However rouse her not, for art is not a must, it is free.


One comment on “Beauty with A Paintbrush

  1. DG says:

    Great writer, great painter 🙂

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