It was a canvas with voice.
Tight and constrained.
Earth supported with a
dampening sky.
Gold leafs brightened
from a silver candelabra.
Birds cold gray and three
flowers in need of water.
Shadows from a forest
with blue trees.
In the center a
precocious muse.
An expression to beguile
those with whispering
gazes and questions.
She commands the
colors and eyes
viewing her,
like the artist,
absorbed and captured
Roger Singer 