The Artist

Dad buys
A pair of football cleats
With sharp little tacks
To hold himself upright
In the steep dirt ravine
Behind his brand new house

Dad tills
The ground, rearranges
Trees and plants colors
In eye-pleasing rhythm
Until it looks– he says
Like a Thomas Kinkade

Dad builds
A gazebo with fire light
In the middle of the dogwood
Introducing bushes bright
To burn his long shadow
Before the first Kansas snow

Dad says
If there’s one thing
He wishes he could do
He wishes he could paint
Pictures –deciding (if he could)
Where to put dark and light

{For my sixty-nine year old father
who labors to make beautiful things}

Gazebo of Prayer by Thomas Kinkade

Gazebo of Prayer by Thomas Kinkade

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11 thoughts on “The Artist

    1. Thanks Frank! He told me once he wished he had the talent for drawing pictures and painting (like you!) and I’m sure I said I wished I had some other talent too. We must use what God has gifted us with! My dad’s still moving ground, going to work “outside” and I can’t wait to see it when “he’s done.”

    1. Well. Maybe I ought to share it with him then. He doesn’t get on the computer at all so doesn’t read what I write. I’ll put it on Facebook, so my Aunt can nudge him to read it there. She set it up for him, and he never goes on that either. He’s too busy working outside:)

  1. I just realized I wasn’t following your blog from Virtually Gina, although I had been from my now-defunct Iridescently. I’ve missed reading your words! A lovely word-painting you’ve created here.

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