The Artist

A religious poem.

What do you choose for your pallet, O Lord,

As you set up your Atlas, your easel?

What do you splash on Aurora's skirts

While Helios prepares for his ride?

Do you borrow from Neptune's endless depths?

Do you snatch up Dawn's heralding pinks?

Then -- quick -- drown the canvas in Midas' touch

Before drifting to Azure's embrace?

It is my pleasure, your painting, the Dawn

Every minute and hour of morn --

I will trace for all sight your brush-strokes of

The sky, your opus of unfettered joy!

Author's Note

I was taking a lot of pre-modern literature classes and decided to try my hand at allusions to other literature. How'd I do?

Reviews

[Stephen]

Umm .. sounds good. Very creative write, there`s no flow of rhyme in your words but apart from it, I feel the presence of your rhythmic flow around the words indeed. Great job!!