Painter's Life

I do not envy painter's life
Of turpentine and palette knife
Forever waiting for the hand
That rests upon depression's stand

I do not envy gessoed sheets
Awaiting brushstrokes soon to meet
Yet when the work is almost done
Ripped up, unseen by anyone

I do not envy hopeless hours
Expecting inspiration's powers
To seize and lift a dull malaise
And turn a lifeless work ablaze

I do not envy people's awe
Appreciation's loud hurrah
When masterpieces are displayed
The costs the painter for them paid

There is a price for gifts bestowed
None yet has walked the royal road
For each must very dearly pay
To use them or he'll surely stray

I do not envy painter's life
Of turpentine and palette knife
Forever waiting for the hand
That rests upon depression's stand.

poem by Liilia Talts Morrison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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