A Paint Brush

God took a paintbrush,
And to my surprise.
He made a great flourish,
That colored the skies.

There were purples and yellows,
In elegant hues.
And the flush of far places,
In the brightest of blues.

He put in the mountains,
With their brownish-tan streaks.
And in an up and down motion,
He added the peaks.

Out in the desert,
Where lave-rock stands.
He parted his brush,
And put in the sands.

O God is professional,
He took it from birth.
As he collected his materials,
And created the earth.

E.P. 1908 - 1989