Art Fair

By Shatakshi Srivastava

Ever gone to a fete?

Bright colourful stalls everywhere

Bling here stars there

A masterpiece that all stare.

It’s made by an artist unknown to all

The only dream created in his empty hall

The eyes you can see longing to see

Any one soul that makes his call.

The painting itself contains its emotions

So beautiful but hidden from motion

Passersby move past in their hurry

But never forget the flaws in their mention.

The art piece desires to be someone’s muse

Want one to see it and remain amused 

The ‘flaws’ to be the personal favourite element

Become so deary that it’ll be the one they’re scared to lose.

Shades overflow like tides of storms

Droplets of colours or tears of harm?

Clouds of rain hover over its loneliness

Feeling of calmness found in maker’s arms.

As it stands here waiting for its turn

Hoping one spectator would realize and return

The piece of art has something to offer

At the cost of solitude, a camaraderie earned.

‘Perfect eye for an art’ they say

Better than the artist? If you may

If they’re right then why’s it unknown?

Bright colourful stalls everywhere 

Bling here stars there

A masterpiece that all stare

The perfect life, still its alone

Every shop owner has begun to wonder

Will this masterpiece ever have a home?  

By Shatakshi Srivastava