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Poem Painter

Posted 01-02-2011 at 12:58 by Владлен1234

Artist
The artist took a little paint, as if the sun, gold. Sweep of a brush! And, as a miracle in the tale, he created the autumn.
And fallen leaves - red, gold - all strewn in the park benches and city, bright and big.
Cafes and white gazebo Pririsoval it on a piece of ... Suddenly, darkened and, knitting his brows, all with white slipped everywhere, Drew instantly storm. Turned to stone all around, and like dead trees, and birds can not see ... But suddenly: Ultramarine in the sky, singing brooks and colorful birds in the hands of a bunch of flowers of spring, and shade shy lashes emotion recognition of the first ...
Then the artist painted the July heat, and summer and in southern countries of the carnival, Bikini, beach and sea light ...
With a smile, a sad man a Distant Era of the Renaissance draws year after year, century, depicts death, love, birthday ... He is scattered everywhere and gold umbrellas sheltered benches, paths in the park, and cafes, and white gazebo. Article site www.v-protasov.ru
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