The artist skillfully moved his paintbrush upon the white canvas.
I was spellbound thinking how he could do this with so much ease.
Within a few minutes, there was his masterpiece, so real that it could deceive any eye. I stood there frozen in astonishment, until the old man patted me on my shoulders and smiled.
As I left the exhibition, I was determined to learn this astounding skill, come what may.
Though I learned that skill,
Yet applied it in a different way.
Now I am able to move my pen in the same skillful manner, and my masterpiece is my poetry.