Aching Hearts **EMOTIONAL**

Poem 2- The Living Paintings

She was the art of the incomparable artist
Who gifted her artistic fingers to create fine art.
She stroked various pigments with her paintbrush until it reached completion and it parted.
The pink butterflies came to life and separated from the canvas like stickers from its pack.
The canvas was white and bare again unlike the other masterpieces lying on the drying rack.
The illustrations moved off its surface with the magic in her soft hands
That were beckoning. There was no movement without the artist's demand.

However, once the written script of her life took a turn into something tragic.
Her magic did not demand something but something demanded her magic.
Her grandmother was ill as she carried her troubled heart
And pictured a dark world where her soul was drifting far apart.
She was on the hospital bed breathing and breating with her heart pacing
And still not at peace. There were difficult obstacles she was facing.
She needed to swap her weak heart that contained pain trapped deep inside.

The artist painted a heart that emerged from the surface alive.
Beating strongly as a red elastic drum to help her survive.
Doctors placed it inside her and so she recovered
The the artistic saviour had her magic uncovered.
The radiant torch of hope caused the dark shadow to fade.
Happiness hung around them and in their petite cottage where they stayed.