PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If I held the Master's brush within my poet's hand

I would not change the colors God has stroked upon my land

For who could paint a sun-pink sky on a canvas blue

And who could paint a friendship in so beautiful a hue.



I would not change the emeralds in magnolia trees so tall

Nor would I change the rainbow, I'd change it not at all.

I could not mix such colors in a shaded garden way

To match that of our Master, who did it in a day.



I would not change my clear blue tears, nor would I interpose

For I could never match the grace of healing from above.

Nor would I change the mocking bird who sings at morning's light

I would not change the midnight blue, only seen at night.



I would not change one twinkle in the brightest of the stars,

And I would not take one moonbeam, not one would I discard.

I would not change the strokes of gray now showing in my hair,

For it was my Master who chose to place them there.



For if a day should dawn upon me when I could not see again,

Then it would be this canvas God so generously did lend

To help me paint the colors that my mind would then recall

No, I would not change the Master's art - it would not change at all.