White Canvas, White Winter (A Poem)

Falling snowflakes grow into different shapes as they fall.

There’s something so beautiful about a pure white canvas

Ready to be filled

There are thousands of secrets hidden inside

Ready to be pulled.

Artists, like miners, use the brush as their tool

And uncover diamonds in every stroke

They pull out the secrets when they paint, draw, collage

And the world’s eyes open, every lady, every bloke.

They use big bowls

And dip their hands in deep

Paint the world with their fingers

So bright and beautiful as if you’re asleep.

And in the winter comes Earth’s own little canvas

A fresh coat of snow, glittering down

With each little blanket comes billions of chances

For artists to come

Work their magic

Rid the blackness.

So this winter don’t fret, don’t even worry

There may not be snow

It’s just not in a hurry

It’s coming just later so artists beware

Soon you’ll have canvases up to your curly nose hair

So happy Christmas Eve

And merry Christmas Day

I’m sorry it’s not a white one

But don’t fear.

It’s okay.

Jolly Old Nick will head down the chimney

And leave little art gifts

Full of colorful whimsy

And maybe you’ll get the best gift of all

Something new, something white, something beautiful and tall

Open up your canvas, brand new and white

Go mine some diamonds

Fill the world with delight.


Happy Christmas to everyone celebrating!

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