A Grandfather’s Art Work

              By Mary Bless Flores

On the blank canvas of my life,

his variegated work added liveliness.

When inspiration dwindled into a hole

of nothing, he was there;

a pen at hand

to outline my thoughts and illustrate a picture

of a better tomorrow.


The pencil traced a dull grey line,

he erased it with a stroke

of vibrant eccentric colors that awed my very eyes.

I was a minimalist that dripped black and white

but his words and touch bled a rainbow

of ocean blue, scarlet red and pine green.

Into my veins they flowed, a part of me.


Once the bristles dipped into charcoal black,

a palette of dark distress,

he would take it out of my hand

replacing it with a brush

dipped into a pigment of red,

warmth and love.

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