Masterpiece

Search my other poetry hubs for information about how to write a sestina. Here is a new one I just finished. You will be the first ones in the world to read it.

Masterpiece

If only he could paint the woman of his dreams on canvas

But there are always roadblocks when one tries to create

Sometimes he would fumble on the strokes

Other times there was something wrong with the texture

And he was never sure just which one was the right brush

There was only one thing he was sure of and that was color

She had to have long hair that was auburn in color

She had to come to life on his canvas

Her hair had to look real enough to brush

She would have the most beautiful green eyes he could create

Her skin has to be rosy and of the softest glowing texture

He would capture her on linen even if it took 1000 strokes

He found himself obsessing over strokes

He mixed paint again and again trying to get her skin the right color

Each part of her hair and skin and face had to be the right texture

For years he worked on that one canvas

He would take breaks from the other art he was trying to create

He would stand in front of her holding his palette and brush

At night he would close his eyes and reach out an imaginary brush

In his dreams he would practice making perfect strokes

His friends left him alone so he could create

He was lost in a world of composition and color

He only left the studio to buy more paints and canvas

He studied Botticelli and Rembrandt to learn to paint skin texture

Eventually her skin took on a soft and glowing texture

Her auburn hair looked real enough to brush

She became his dream girl on that canvas

He was finally close to finishing her with a few more strokes

He just had to tweak a few more spots of color

And at last she became the dream girl he always wanted to create

She reached her hand out to touch her creator

She rubbed her fingers over his old face to feel the texture

She looked at his mottled graying skin color

She reached over and grabbed his wet paintbrush

He gasped for breath and stumbled as he had three strokes

They found him laying face down on the canvas

They rolled his body over to examine his color, "I wonder what he was trying to create?"

"He's just laying here on this giant blank canvas." They examined his body for its texture

"Look, I think he dropped this brush. See over here where it spattered this auburn color."