This particular face twists and grimaces for the artist sitting concentratedly opposed
To regain a touch of humming bird – esque appeal which he nurtures so notoriously well – the shimmered look that keeps him from being utmost above all else dangerously critical upon himself – always room for sensational improvement
Incredibly, excitability, worthwhile every next intricate bit

 Soon as the price of true art pays its way meticulously forward
First with these tired, seriously over – wrought eyes of hers, little wrinkles never turned out for him to be a problem as such – what may well have seen pain rather yearningly translates to what’s wonderfully, shape – shiftingly, orchestrated via paint

Each dullard colour comes carrying a life of its uniquely identifiable own, prone to proposing to be the chosen one – the one to finish beautifully dotted then delicately smudged atop her nose ’til taking glance – again shape
Where the light attempts as best it shan’t more oft than not to get in

Perhaps the piece which instruments aside radiates the final ‘smile’ – forced on painstakingly strong, or was it ever even there in the first instance, we have to strain our enticed eyes and long for an answer

By pushing like creative clock – work to strengthen the altogether sought after gleam between these trembling lips – like drawing blood from frozen stone
Poetic license, they will whisper to relay for many an age – old century to come