Oh!
I paint what and how I feel...
In words, they sing,
on canvas, they speak.

Song of Love . . .
The song of love is orchestrated by nature
The breezing wind is the flute
The waterfall is the cymbal
Have you ever hear a wren warbling?
Warbling unheeded . . .
The rippling waves are the percussion
The rushing waves the drum
The raging waves are the bass drum
The flowing creek is the maracas
The stream is the violin
The quiet river is the viola
Have you ever heard a wolf howling?
The conductor is within you
He is in your heart . . .
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