FREE HAND

FREE HAND

Lightening digits dance across the page,
a long-imprisoned tiger now out of cage.
Sketched forms begin to materialize,
colors join in like an orgy, then harmonize.

Mind to page now translate the directive,
stepping back to see it in different perspective.
Hands too hastily placing forms that seem,
clumsy, awkward, and harshly obscene.

Eagle eyes seeing what before they did not,
flying eraser or paint removes the offensive blot.
Smoothing, softening jagged edges like sand,
stepping back to admire the works of my hand.

Canvas a mysterious virgin to be learned,
working within it, a privilege earned.
Taking in or declining the artistic demands,
sponge-applied or in brush stroke bands.

Passions spent on canvas-based love,
my expectation's exceeded far and above.
Once virgin canvas now tells a colorful tale,
the finished masterpiece of free hand's travail.

by: Kimarie Manhart-Freeman