A painting have I received
From someone who had the time passed by sleeves,
Who had spent a large part of days under the open sky, and the Sun,
Who had made a tryst with Nature all through,
Who had lived life, in farms and barns,
And in meadows, in lands of plateaus and hills,
In places where the days, the songs of heaven seal-
With mellifluous grace and wonderous accompaniment
Of rivers and brooks that to a heart can only melody send,
The painting done at a location undisclosed
Filled my soul with a dreamy float,
The brushstrokes nimble and crafted with care,
brought alive a bower with sublimity layered,
And colors of country which the painter had caught
Left me struck, dumbed, and with poesy wrought.
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