My Art

Just as a pianist shows great care, in stroking his fingers across every key.

And just as a swordsmith will hone his blade until it brings your enemy to his knee,

So to do I, show great care in my art.

Because like a mother to her child, it is a creation that is dear to my heart.

With a pen as my hammer and words as my ore,

I aim to shape something the world can adore.

It may not be a blade that brings about the fall of a nation,

But I do hope it will touch hearts for many in a generation.

My art does not have the sweet melody of a song,

But like sweet music it can pull you right along.

It can have you so enthralled like a musician on the stage,

And also ensnare you like a book’s well written page.

One day I hope to see my art on a shelf,

Inside a big book with each word containing a bit of myself.

So that on the day that I am finally gone,

My art will be here and carry my story on.