The smooth forehead creases
The eyes squint just a bit
The fingers twirl the brushes
And a little paint is spilt.
Inside the messy studio
Sits the artist all aglow
With creative fires burning
Along with her ego
One finds the subject flinching
Beneath her forceful glare
His nervous ears a-twitching
As she sketches him with flair
But beware of intruding
On the hard-working artist
She's quite capable of hurling
An insult with her fist
ohhh...wow!! u wrote a poem abt sheila!!! or did u ???
ReplyDeleteWhoa baby!! You have a flair for poetry!!!! :) *strews flowers in Franceez's path*
ReplyDeletehahahhahaha you really have a gift with words. don't let it get to your head though. Is Sheila drawing you?
ReplyDeleteOye man.. you know what.. (I should probably be scrapping you this and not leaving you a comment in your worthy blog, but I am too lazy!).. I just realized that I'm kinda starting to chat with most of your friends! Lol. They end up reading my blog and vice versa. Its kinda freaky cause each time I think its a random person, they trace back to you! Lol. Anyway, hope you don't mind...? And before you ask, NO, I am NOT stalking your friends!! :p
ReplyDeleteQuite true!! bro quite true!!.. those last four lines!!!
ReplyDelete