The Artist

I like waking up early,

To birds,

And breezes,

And just the smell of the earth.

I like the dew,

How it sparkles on a spider's web 

In the grass.

But most of all,

I like the sunrise.

When it comes,

The whole world is painted

blackandwhite

Then the sun wakes, 

And it gets brighter

And brighter,

And then the sun,

The artist,

Uses his sunbeam brushes

To paint everything

Golden.

He paints a tree,

The grass,

The sky.

And for one moment,

Just one moment,

The world is a golden palace

Just for me.

And sometimes,

I wish that the world were always

Golden.

~The Artist, by me

Kitty has to go,

Grace Anna Rose