Casso grabbed her brush,
Tossed on a top hat,
Then ran off to rough up the flat.
She picked up her paint,
Gave it a good stir,
Then went to work in a blur.
Just looking at an office
You could feel her get inspired.
She thought – differences should meet
And you look awful tired,
Let’s paint you up in something sweet –
Then grabbed a mug of mint tea treat
And offered that office a refreshing drink,
Wiping away the doldrums stink.
The graveyard got a coat
Of lively marching bands.
The mayor can now gloat
Over heaps of helping hands.
She painted children with the Bering Sea,
The smell of flowers with the number 3,
And smeared the thought of stopping with glee.
Though far past just begun,
Casso’s goal never was, “I won!”
She rests in do instead of done.