A Good Friend

By D. R. DiFrancesco

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What passes for art, for art’s sake

Be it brush or pen or pottery, the medium, no difference does it make

Neither beauty nor disgust for the creation dissuade

From the quest to enrich, enlighten and persuade

Its been said that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder

This truth I envelop even more as I’ve grown older

What is crude or refined who’s to say what’s in taste

Rash judgements have been made at first glance and in haste

Powerful words and the mastery of the artists broad stroke

Portend to convey what the mind’s eye can invoke

Whether abstract or classical, our views may be divergent

Feelings resurrected and emotions rise most urgent

Thought provocation is the design of the muse

Masterfully manipulating all the senses that we use

To see and to hear things in a different light

Molded in a way that we hadn’t thought right

For better or for worse this is the artists intent

To affect you deep down though its this you strive to prevent

Whether its the beauty of a flower or sensations of unbridled love

What we hope to instill are the images and feelings gifted from above

The Sculptor

By D. R. DiFrancesco

You found me,
Strewn amongst your clay,
Shapeless, crying for form,
Undefined by nature,
A blank slate with which to create.

You knead me,
With water and warmth you gave me substance,
You carved and cut with a gentle artists touch,
Careful not to go too deep,
I might bleed.

You cared for me,
Soothing my jaggedness,
With your compassionate caress,
You soften my rough edges,
Leaving me smooth and cultivated.

You loved me,
Being sure to hold me close,
So that I would never shatter,
My sculpture complete,
You’ve polished my hardened exterior.

My love for you,
Embodied in the kindness of your spirit,
You have made me whole,
The shape and form of who I hoped to be,
Under the hallowed hands of a sculptor.