With hands gifted and vision clear,
This girl whose sight I hold so dear
Brings to life her deepest dreams
And makes the form of truth appear.

Pigments swirl from a seasoned brush;
     Another unsung success.
Don't say that it's a masterpiece;
     Her selfless heart assumes it's less.
Colors mingle in motley mixtures
     As subconscious creatures secretly creep.
Fingers smear the saucy sculptures
     And decipher decryption as concoctions seep.
Never quite knowing what warrants await
     In the unfinished tableau,
This girl, an unselfishly sensitive soul,
     Might not see as much as you.

With tender touch and steady strength
     Her hands possess serenity;
The moves they make and the charms they cast
     Reveal her subtle mastery.
Impressionist artistry seems sufficient;
     It needs no illicit inhibitions.
Her earnest expression proves most proficient
     When accomplished without refined recognition.
Restricting rules and damaging discipline
     Betray the free simplicity
Inherent within her art's creation
     That leads to its lovely symmetry.

How lucky are we who can sympathize
With such a wonder; a joyful surprise:
The girl who so happily illustrates
The beauty she witnesses with her bright eyes.