Tonight's really random...
Here's a poem I wrote lately for school. The assignment was to write a poem about something we love. By reading my blog, you should probably know what it is...;). Enjoy!
Sketchbook
By H. Lewis, copy write 2013
The white sheet is blank,
The pencil poised above.
Eyes search through empty space
For something yet unthought-of.
Soon, thought upon thought
begin to flow,
The hand begins to dance.
Graphite loops and lines
appear;
Focus is on the paper,
everything around—hardly a glance.
The artist is quietly patient,
As lines are erased and
redrawn.
In each pencil stroke there is
magic;
For the artist, time is gone.
After a while, the piece is
done;
Pencils are put to the side,
But just because the pencil is stopped doesn’t mean
The picture isn’t alive.
To the artist, each figure she draws
Is a person, an acquaintance, a friend—
They live and breathe off her graphite,
On their company she can depend.
Her sketchbook is filled with a magic
That comes from deep in the mind;
And everyone who draws soon discovers
When you draw, the real world is soon left behind.
*Sigh* I loose myself in my sketchbook sometimes...
It could use some improvement, but it's what came. :)
'Night! -_- zzzz
