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Agnes



As gorgeous as the blooms she paints

I wax rhapsodic without restraint

With beauty of a time gone by

Enchanting with her clear blue eyes

Many suitors have been thwarted

Her smile beguiles, you feel transported

And yet you’re drawn into her world

Where strokes of colour gently swirled

With each light flick, the gauzy crocus

Comes to life and into focus

There is no flower she has neglected

No blossom that has been rejected

Instead a maelstrom like a prism

Explodes around you, blurs your vision

You’re overwhelmed, you think you’ll faint

And dream of texture, glazes, paint

Until you’re woken from your daze

To works of art that will amaze

For Agnes is a talent rare

Transforms a surface, white and bare

Into a thing of dazzling hue

That melts your heart, like lovers do

May soul and spirit fill her brush

And burst out like a startled thrush

So that around we’ll only see

The gift of her pure artistry!

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