My Senses Poem

My Senses Poem

I smell the paint from the tubes as I get ready for painting by putting the newspaper down. 

I feel the paint brush as I make a masterpiece and the paint glistens in the sunlight as it dries.

I see the paint as I squeeze it out of the tube and it has beautiful bits of glitter which makes it sparkle in the sun.

I hear the water splashing as I wash my paint brush in a cup and it splashes onto the news paper.

I taste the cold fresh water as I drink it as fast as I can.

go on this link to see the real thing 

What would you want to do on the weekends?

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