It was never known

For  it was never known,
How a painting so deep,
On a canvas plain,
Being every artist’s envy,
And yet every poet’s muse,
Interplay of colours,
At a point,
From afar it seems like earth contemplating to meet the sky,
But as you near she tries to stay aloof,
And, at that point where she neither is a friend nor a foe,
She throws across an ultimate archer’s bow,
Violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red, you’d recite,
And in an instant she disappears,
Before your eyes could swallow her beauty whole,
It was her parting present, until next time,
It was her attempt to pacify you, lest you dread her coming the next time,
It was her consoling words, that she cares for you as you of her,

It all started when she decided to empty her woes,
Her uncountable sorrow,
And oh my! she did so,
Pouring grief on lands she’d nurtured for long,
There was no end to her tears,
And no sea big enough to control any fears,
And the lands did take in her grief,
My my! what a yield that year they did give!

191 words.

Acknowledgements :- Thank you Peter for hosting MTB on dVerse. The theme for this edition is covering middle bits of poetry. For rules please refer here. Thank you all for stopping by and reading.

10 thoughts on “It was never known

Add yours

  1. Thank you posting for this intriguing piece – turning from painting to elusive romance to storming seasons – a lovely trip. I wonder was it inspired by a painting or piece of music – or only the poet’s rich imagination – either way a vivid journey nicely realised.

    Liked by 1 person

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