For the Love of Art

I never imagined myself an artist
The thought never crossed my mind
But now I can’t stop writing poetry
And I’m having such a good time

I’m writing this primarily for me
It helps me stop feeling blue
But recently I have begun to wonder
If it would appeal to others too

I write about that that is current for me
Whatever happens to engage
Emotions, problems, thoughts, dreams
These have all featured at some stage

Sometimes the words fly onto the paper
And I can’t write fast enough to keep up
Other times it’s like pulling teeth
And try though I might those teeth are stuck!

It would be absolutely amazing
If my art could be more than a hobby
I dream of being a successful artist
Of my work supporting me

I write about what is real for me
And mayhap it’s real for you too
My greatest hope is that in reading my stories
You might uncover the hidden artist in you

What fun it is, what joy, what wonder!
To create something out of nothing
To paint verbally onto a blank canvas
And feel your words start to sing

I can’t understand how I ever could
Give up poetry and singing for so long
No wonder my life wasn’t working
No wonder so much was going wrong!

And now I have recovered that part of me
That lives solely to create art
There is once again balance in my life
And great joy within my heart

For the love of art I will continue
To write these poems to myself
And maybe one day, just maybe
They might end up in a book on a shelf

To be published would be so wonderful
A dream I barely dare breathe
But until that day, whenever it might come
I will continue to write poetry for me

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