Monday, March 16, 2015



Empty canvass, untouched

The painter enters the room

His playfield like any other

What you do with this new day

What colour does he use

What's the kind of game

All of that

Is answered with a first simple stroke

On the canvass, on the violin, with you hand

Another masterpiece, simply by yourself

Or for others to see, hear, feel

And all because it is another morning

A new chance, a new day

© Ad Vulto. 2016. All rights reserved.

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