Window into a world fast leaving

A bit of red ran down to fingertips
A driving force of a time picture
Laid upon smiling lips

Brush corrects the run

Rain changes the path
Like rays from early sun
Flute plays the tune

Artist takes another drink

Captures of a pallet blue
For coat rich in sky
Places the arm to think

Model sheds cloth
Last bit drops to ground
Passion breaks not a sound

Coffee stained eyes put on

Strokes work the marks
Curves blend top to frown
Perfection in a body laid

You too Brutus

To be Julius has a price
Clothe clean basin for us
Trees are all the rage

Marks of perfection cry

Monks place upon
Cherubs ceiling high
Strokes to perfect eyes

No man do I own

Clay breaks the bones
Lead enters into the throne
Gray of life tints the skin

Last strokes placed in full view