Part 2
Finally, Zanzibar was ready to create his magnus opus...
He brushed the table with a nasturtium wash
The colour was pretty in the bottle
But somehow it changed
Seeped into the woods in parts
In others
The colours seemed to globulate and sheen
Zanzibar shrugged
And decided to continue
He thought he'd better outline his fantasy shapes and figures
He used a tiny paring knife
So he could control the black outline
But the knife seemed to have a bad habit of scratching into the wood
And dots of black seemed to appear in the wrong places
Zanzibar was a little frustrated by this time
He really wanted to use the beautiful colours he had made
So he used his pieces of bark and twigs
Trying to put the colour inside his black outline
But the black had not dried and seemed to wash into his colours
Worse still
Bits of bark and twigs were becoming stuck in the colour
Zanzibar tried to pinch them out
But only succeeded in leaving his own fingerprints behind
By this time
Zanzibar was feeling some rather grim rushes and waves of despair
In short
He felt depressed
Finally Zanzibar decided it was time to give up
The colour
The bark
The table
All seemed to have a mind of their own
Zanzibar headed forlornly to bed
It was late
Later than he realised
He had missed the sunset
He had missed tea
But that all seemed so irrelevant
So far away
He was just so tired
And so sad
Next morning
Zanzibar woke with the sunrise as usual
His friendly wren greeted him on his window-sill
Zanzibar smiled
But only for a fleeting moment
He knew he had to face the painting
On his breakfast table
Well
He had to go out there sometime or other
Out Zanzibar went
Very slowly
Quietly
Very slowly
He approached the table
And just gazed
And gazed
Before him was indeed a painting
But nothing like the one he thought he had created
Indeed
A lot of the paint had seeped into the wood
But some had stayed
Creating magical outlines and shapes
Is that the face of the daughter of Neptune
Zanzibar wondered
Or is it really the face of Helen of Troy
But if I stand over here
It seems like a mermaid basking on rocks
In total bewilderment
Zanzibar walked round and round the table
Getting more and more excited at the fantasy puzzle unravelling before him
A cloud shape looked like coral looked like foam on the sea
Looked like a white-haired wizard
A window shape looked like a mirror containing a secret garden
Hunger at last overwhelmed Zanzibar
He was starving
Hurriedly he gathered any berries close to his doorway
And dashed back inside
He'd drink his coffee cold today
It did not matter
Somehow he had created something that really entranced him
And he was going to bask in the glory
Of his unbridled skill
The wonder
The magic
Of his unique artistry
Correction...
Somehow
Something beautiful had been created
And he felt very humble
Moral #1 - Don't try to copy another's imagination... You never will...
Moral #2 - I'd love to see Zanzibar's table... But I won't copy... Promise...
Happy Birthday Ray
