Painter of the Seasons

This is a response to the May 2015 Commuter Challenge

Upon the longest night, see it begin:
An artist sleeps beneath a sheet of snow,
Begins to stir, lets thoughts of waking show
 — and then decides on months of sleeping in.

What dreams did sketch in simple grey and white,
Awake, she paints. New colours fill the scene,
Replacing snowy hills with verdant green;
And flowers form, from dots of pigment bright.

Then come the rarest tints, for long delayed:
Lapis lazuli gives the bluest sky;
Then certain greens produced from powdered jade,
And lastly gold, as grain begins to dry.

At last, it's time for art to reap reward:
To view the work complete, she steps away,
But sees the early signs of swift decay.
Lit by the flames, she clears another board...

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