Poem Name:
''Hand Shadows''
In the mystic realm of twilight,
Where shadows dance and dreams come.
master of hands, expert,
Weaves artistry in darkness.
In deep silence, the stage awaits,
A canvas of the night where talent translates,
Where fingertips whisper untold secrets,
And stories slowly emerge in the shadows.
With grace and nimble wit,
A professional artist, no less.
uses light, the magician of colors,
Creating wonders through twinkling waterfalls.
The velvet curtain of ebony falls,
As the world surrenders to the siren calls of the night,
And amidst the silence, a spotlight shines,
The hands are bright like rays of light.
A symphony of fingers, skilful and fleet,
offers both wonderful and lovely places,
As the stories unfold with each silhouette cast,
A captivating performance, destined to last.
Behold, a flying eagle, majestic and proud,
spread his wings, denying the shroud,
His regular presence is imprinted on the air.
Evidence of shared artistry.
Then, a soft doe emerges into view,
Its delicate form evokes the colors of nature
His eyes, like pools of liquid grace,
Reflecting the serenity of a peaceful place.
Shadows change, and a dragon flies,
Flames of wonder breathe, inflame the night,
With shining scales, like diamonds burning,
A mythical creature in the mist of fire.
Now the rose petals bloom,
A symbol of love, in a delicate twist,
His fragrant essence fills the hidden stage,
A timeless beauty that resists aging.
From the glimpses of past stories,
For characters whose stories are about to end,
Hands speak without words.
Listen closely to Shadow Language.
An owl sits high, its eyes wise and deep,
Observing the world through the eyes of the unseen
A night sentinel deep in the night,
His wings fluttered and whispered a secret.
Shadows breathe with every movement.
A provocative tapestry that they deftly navigate,
Crossing language and time barriers
Expression of higher and higher emotions.
The arts unfold, an intricate dance,
The shadows of the hand are locked in rapture,
A charming performance, etched on the air,
Inviting hearts and minds to wander and dare.
Hands, like magicians, weave their magic,
As stories come alive, they live in the shadows,
A seamless ballet of shapes and forms,
By mesmerizing the spectators, their morale rises.
The moon shines, a celestial light,
Extending the shadow, a heavenly vision,
And in this magical world, where dreams are born,
Professional hands create decorative wonders.
Both real and unreal beings
Their presence is captivating, revealing emotions,
From harsh and rude to soft and meek,
Hand shadows embody a unique language.
A noble knight on a gallant ride,
A fairy's delicate wings, ready to succeed,
A roaring lion, majestic and proud,
Pirates, brave and stoic.
Vast, limitless and grand in store,
With each story, a masterpiece is planned,
A thousand words, unsaid, they tell,
Through the shadow of the hand, a narrative they present.
At noon, the performance ends,
Applause fills the air, as the audience joins in.
Touched by magic, the depth of art,
Witnessing an endless symphony of shadows.
Because in this realm of darkness and light,
The professional's hands were burnt.
A spark of wonder, an untold journey,
A masterpiece emerges from the shadow of the hand.
