The Elm 2016-2017 2017 The Elm Literary Magazine | Page 28

THE PAINTER
by Zechariah Bean
I sometimes wish I were a painter,
So your portrait I could paint,
Though I wish I could, I fear,
That even if i possessed the ability,
To paint,
I would still be unable to,
To capture the visions you create.
Still no brush could hope to imitate,
The strokes your beauty seems to hold,
No paint I know could match the brilliance,
Of your natural glow,
No canvas could contain,
The simple grace of your presence,
It could not be done by me.
When I see you in the evenings,
As we prepare to sleep,
Your face gently resting on my shoulders,
So soft, sweet, serene, and filled with peace,
Your love for me so obvious,
It almost makes me weep.
When I see you in the afternoon,
Just after you’ve been out,.
With the sunshine in your smile,
The breeze still in your hair,
And spring time in your eyes,
By the boundlessness of your beauty,
I am once again surprised.
When I see you sad or hurting ,
The sorrow in your eyes,
In each tear I see more beauty,
The kindness, caring, and gentleness,
You sometimes try to hide,
And once again I’m lost in wonder,
To find you at my side,
The other times we’re together,
Maybe just sitting on the couch,
I look to you and find your beauty,
Waiting silently for me,
All of these things and more,
Make me wish i were a painter….
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Untitled
Luke Lindsey
11th Grade
Polaroid
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