A Fading Picture (Sonnet)


I painted a vibrant coloured picture,
Young maiden with a red rose in her hair,
Guided by unseen hands; Love my teacher,
When I finished was consumed with despair,

Cos I saw my masterpiece was fading!
Paint over? Risk losing what was special?
In deep sorrow I found myself wading,
Was this my life or just superficial?

Intense joy! I felt when I first began,
Now painfully I watch it fade away,
Life is both the beginning and the end,
But for now live! To paint another day

I then realised what I had failed to see,
It was not the picture fading but me!

Julian T.

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