oh Master
what masterpieces will You paint
using Your brushes
which tickle and prick on the strokes You choose
what shades of red and brown, purple and black
will splay across the golden caramel canvas
that lays obediently taught yet slack
before You

oh Master
what shapes will appear,
what messages will be relayed,
what joys will be displayed,
that Your artistry
commands from its praise
for the masterpiece
You craft, shape, and devise
to bring pleasure to the mind
upon those secret set of eyes


Magic exists in the stroke
that is also where Heaven is found 
in the bend of Your wrists,
in the twist of the brush
And the canvas is Yours
to command as You wish,
a display of Your power
a kind of Love that