Born of the Brush - Appaloosa Horse Portrait
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A whisper of form on canvas bare,
A ghostly shape in hollow air.
The first soft strokes, a fleeting spark,
A shadow stirring in the dark.
Layer by layer, warmth unfolds,
Ochre, chestnut, hints of gold.
Dapples bloom like falling snow,
A silent steed begins to glow.
Eye takes shape—depth untold,
Gleaming, wise, both young and old.
Breath of wind, a mane set free,
A painted dream, now wild to be.