If a rogue paintbrush clattered to the floor and happened to catch my eye, <br />I would lure it to my fingers with a palette smothered with rich, vivid paints <br />Luxurious hues and shades it would love <br />And rested in my light but commanding grip, I would let it unlock for me <br />The passageways to the castles of lore <br />The doors to the tranquil countryside <br />The paths to the calming seashores <br />The tunnels to the beautiful sunset <br />On the canvas it would playfully dance to and fro, dipping itself in each delicious colour <br />And whine plaintively when its job had been fulfilled and it was time to be stored away. <br /> <br />If a rogue art pencil rolled on by and happened to catch my eye, <br />I would swiftly grab it before it ever saw a thing and catch it by surprise <br />Caught in an inescapable trap (clutched in my hand) , <br />I would lead it back to its glory days when Pencil and Sketch Pad were one- <br />Shadowed and pristine still life <br />Awestriking animal sketches <br />Sharp manga and anime <br />Funky classroom doodles <br />On the smooth paper it would slide and skate all around the page <br />And lie down, relaxing and dismissive, when its job had been fulfilled and it was time to be stored away. <br /> <br />But if a fine, well-inked pen bumped into my desk and happened to catch my eye, <br />It would happily pop its cap off in greeting and willingly slip into my open hand, <br />Familiar with the process to come and enjoying every second. <br />Pen in hand, contentedness at heart, I would let the black ink flow from the tip <br />Full of ideas <br />Brimming with words <br />Flooded with emotion <br />Scribbling hurriedly to capture them all...<br /><br />Leslie Ching<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-83/
