Paint flows like breath, soft and slow,
While candle flames and rhythms glow.
A hand, a brush, a sacred sound—
Where color moves and calm is found.

Here visions bloom in stroke and shade,
To every note, a spell is laid.
A place to dream, create, and see—
Brush & Broom, where soul moves free.

With every stroke—so mote it be,
A witch’s work. Blessed Be.