Grim Reaper Artwork and a Fairies Illustrations- Make It Rain

I stroke my own hair
hear me breathing.
I am not sure it is really me
and yet
I am a fantasy fairy in a snow filled jar.
A bench sits in the middle of the ocean
my brush is filled with aqua.
I remove tight fitting muzzles
lest bright colors fly away.
I always seem to miss the signs
and yet
I will try to spy them now
lest I die.
One cannot control adventures
nor define them
a fairies illustrations
but I will try none the less.

I hear the ground
those before me
I am humbled.
I hear their voices
they speak of lost days
grim reaper artwork
so why
do I...
lose them?

I want to feel passion
I want to make it rain
yet I am almost sick of the word.
it is not enough
words not met by deeds.
Pictures cut out from magazines
pasted on the floor
I want to walk in their gardens.

I count the days
grim reaper
but I am not sure why
maybe because
I count my paintings.

I hear the breaths of tombs.
They did not know their shadow
before their passing.
And ohhh...
I hear their complaints
making rain
I guess I am one.
I sing in harmony.
How many failures can one accept
and still be noticed?

Let me climb from this jar
let me taste the stamen of a flower
touch my tongue on a tiny miracle
stave off honey bees
stand firm
this story is meant for me.

Pleasantries are gone in winter
it feels too cold for smiles.
I will seclude myself
till the snow is past
and no longer floating free
in unopened jars full of water
filled to the brim with wishes
for fantasy fairies like me.

I am a tear
yet I have added a second blanket
and should be fine.

Voices
everywhere
I stop
I hear...
grim reaper illustrations
calling out for drops of water.
And ever so timely
bringing umbrellas to cover
voices from the ground.

www.kathysart.com
My artist's journey story and where to purchase my art…

Whimsical Angels | The Mask
The journey of Whimsical Angels | The Mask