She was a gifted artist,
With magic in her fingers,
Whatever she drew on paper,
Manifested in three dimensions;
Her sketches come alive,
Pulling themselves off the parchment,
Walking around her sketchpad,
Leaving trails of graphite;
Ink-dotted owls fly across the room,
Her floor crawling with incredibly detailed wolves,
Anime characters battled on her nightstand,
While elaborate battle ships sailed on charcoal waves;
However, before her drawings got out of hand,
She made sure they got back into the paper.

She was a gifted musician,
With magic in her fingers,
Her melodies don’t just stop at sound,
They take on an ethereal form;
Notes as though from liquid nitrogen,
They prance around her as she plays them
Slowing down or speeding up depending on the rhythm,
Bright, and beautiful like Patronus charms;
With every different tune, the colours could change
Blue for melancholy and yellow for chipper,
Painting light streams in the air like auroras;
And as the music starts to fade and the song comes to a close,
The notes too, vanish, leaving her like mist,
Till the next time they’re conjured again.