The Palette

The galleries of my mind

The palette of my life has upon it many layers
thick with the remnants of past creations

It holds memories of inspirations long forgotten
the colours still merged in crazy copulation

Combined an old perspective, new direction
dust now merged with the oils and pigments

A stained piece of rag trapped in the paint
a tattered old reminder of life that used to flow

It remembers faces long passed into dust
places that bear no resemblance to their likeness

Forever changed by foolishness and age
smiles and tears still have their traces here

Life teeming with energy long forgotten
the ghosts of my existence show their faces there

Its surface hardened with the regularity of disuse
it holds a fascination borne of familiarity

The marks of my palette knife are etched here
a reminder that it once held my attention

That hours passed like minutes in concentration
my hands making magic with its mixtures

The dye inscribing thoughts with permanence
unique like none other framed forever

The hues that once made up the masterpieces
the shades of difference and design

They are still evident upon the faded surface
ever painted in the galleries of my mind

© Ann Bagnall

6 thoughts on “The Palette

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