In the quiet whispers of the canvas white,
Colors dance in the soft embrace of light.
Each stroke a story, each hue a song,
In the realm of art, we all belong.
Through the sculptor’s chisel, stone comes alive,
Breathing history, where memories thrive.
Forms take shape, in shadows they play,
Echoes of the past, in timeless display.
The potterâs wheel spins tales untold,
Clay molded with hands, both tender and bold.
Vessels of dreams, of earth and sky,<
In each creation, a piece of life does lie.
Music of the brush, melody of hues,
Art is the language the soul pursues.
In every artwork, a fragment of heart,
The boundless beauty of the world in art.