In the quiet of the morning light,
An artist stands with dreams in hand,
Colors dance upon the canvas bright,
A world of fantasy at his command.

With strokes that whisper tales untold,
He paints the sky with hues of dawn,
Each line a story, brave and bold,
In every shade, a hope reborn.

The canvas speaks, a silent song,
Of journeys taken, lands unseen,
Where every brushstroke finds its throng,
In vibrant fields of verdant green.

The artist’s heart, a fervent fire,
Burns bright with every shade and tone,
Within the hues, his true desire,
A masterpiece, his soul’s own home.