In the quiet corners of a painted dream,
Colors dance and play in whispered hues.
A brush caresses the canvas with gentle gleam,
Creating worlds where imagination brews.

Each stroke a story, each hue a song,
Textures weave tales of forgotten lore.
In vibrant silence where echoes belong,
Art breathes life from its endless core.

The eyes behold what the heart can see,
In abstract forms and lines that sway.
A celebration of mystery, wild and free,
Where shadows and light joyously play.

Art, the silent symphony of the soul,
A language spoken without a word.
In every piece, a quest to make whole,
The unspoken dreams profoundly stirred.