Something from Nothing
-Bethany Berry
The soft, blank canvas, patiently awaits
Screaming white, waiting to be dressed in paint
Starting something new, it waits for its fate
Slowly, colour is added, bold and faint
Short hairs from the brush glide across the board
The paint settles, spread across its new home
Adding colours, more paint is being poured
The vibrant bright colours start to take shape
Turning nothing into something, feels great
Painting a memory, a fine landscape
nowhere near done, it won't be, at this rate
The time, Oh canvas, is not just for you
It is also an escape for me too.
(Written in the form of Shakespearean Sonnet)
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