The Painting

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She Stands alone on the seashore
Breathing in the crisp coastal air
The waves crash at her feet
The sea breeze blows through her hair

She takes off her shoes
And sits down in the sand
A poster board on her lap
And a paint brush in hand

A line turns into a curve
And a curve into a wave
When she is finished
She has painting a young artist would crave

The sun finally sets
She gathers up her things
As she walks back to her hotel
An idea begins to sing

Five years later
Her painting of the sea
Is hanging in an art museum
What a fantastic artist she has turned out to be





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