The Artwork

Slowly

little by little

The oils clung to the canvas

And what took shape

Was a reflection of her

Majestic presence

It was as if

Each stoke of my brush

Held in my artists hands

Mirrored itself within her spirit

And fluttered across her body

Light and shade

Lingered as my brush danced

Slowly as I the artist worked

I filled in the contours of her form

Each stroke of the brush

Comforting

Warming

Enabling her pleasure to grow