Miss Merriweather had a gift
A special gift indeed
When she painted upon a page
Her creations were freed

They would move about the canvas
Travel from frame to frame
They held her most sacred secrets
So more creations came

Her kings and queens ruled the kingdoms
Her garden flowers grew
Her animals ran through the fields
Her ocean breezes blew

Her paintings always came to life
Each with their own story
They sang, and danced, and lived their lives
Telling tales of glory 

Her artwork was known to be great
The lines and colors, bold 
People came from far and wide
To see the stories her paintings told