Paint my skin in springtime shades,
warm the tones of cold judgement.
Let Light wash over my frozen opinions
and brush aside arrogance and pride,
covering that powerful streak of stubborn selfishness
with magnificent magenta mercy,
graceful gouache glory.
Frame my life’s context
against the wall of Your gallery,
anoint my head with oils and pastels,
running over into lithographed lap.
For I am but a copy
until Your fingers draw out the Original;
I am but a replica
until Your signature calls me Salvaged.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
I had to go to the dictionary on this one, but that’s okay because I love learning new words. The image here really resonates gore me.
I have always loved the thought of being a work of art in the making – I have written on this theme before, and likely will again. I enjoy painting myself, so it strikes a real chord with me, as well.
The first line is divine!!!! Lovely poem!
Thanks again, Millie. 🙂
Wow! This is wonderful, Melody!
Blessings ~ Wendy
Thank you Wendy!
Could you ask him to paint me with the same brush and sentiment?
Done! 🙂
I loved this sequestration !
Thanks so much, Deborah! By the way – do you go by Debbie or Deborah most often??
I like Debbie ~t what everyone calls me or Tenny for Tennyson because I’d read him alot.
I love magenta mercy and salvaged signature–this is the first time I thought about Heaven including a huge beautiful art gallery–why not?!!
Why not indeed? If we all have jobs to do, why not artisans and sculptors to decorate the place? 🙂
Oh My Goodness! This one poured all over me, Melody! Thank you and God bless you!
Oooh! Wonderful, Debbie!
Beautiful expression.
Thank you very much! 🙂