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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: fathers (06/06/05)
His legs were long, his temper short
Announcing wrong, in loud discord
He smelled of ink and paint and glue
A mind of gold, a heart dark blue

Adopted from a foreign land,
He grew too fast into a man
A brilliant artist so alone
With wife, four kids and loving home

Creating art from God’s own eyes
He never seemed to realize
The gifts he had or where to go
Within a prayer or love to show

He wished to be upon a shore,
In a bar, or with a whore.
Upon an island white with sand
Like Picasso or Gaugan

A day or two, he’d go away
And tears would fall, as Mamma prayed
Then he’d come back with smiles and grins
With sorry’s for his earlier sins.

It wasn’t till his 70th year, when all were gone
And death drew near, he figured out where he belonged.
He came to God with open hands
Then God did give him promised lands

He lived another 14 years,
Full of life and free of fears
And God did shine within his art
His mind, his body, soul and heart.
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This article has been read 1183 times
Member Comments
Member
Date
Gabrielle Morgan
06/14/05
Iloved this poem. It truly described an artist's temperament as I have experienced. My husband is a born artist. Good work.
Carol Shaffron
06/14/05
God's beauty shines through every line. Sad and lovely at the same time---modern story of the "prodigal" who spent his riches on riotous living. It's so good to know that the goodness of God reached him before it was too late. Your gifting in writing is a brilliant display of God's glory.
Venice Kichura
06/15/05
I loved this! Your talent for prose is evident!
Joyce Simoneaux
06/15/05
A very touching account of a wayward life come home.
Shari Armstrong 
06/15/05
A nice portrait of an artist - well done.
Amy Verlennich
06/16/05
Thought it flowed well until the "70th year", but then you got the rhythm again in the last one. Neat story in the poem, and always great be reminded of how the Lord changes those who will let Him.