Poetry

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Within the wooden frame lies paper and paint
A very two dimensional world to the casual observer
Yet the image before me pulses with life from the heart of the artist
Across the golden plain beside a lone tree
A brilliant Sun plays in a dirty sky
at the top of a hill
Beckoning me to dream of summers past
I can feel the heat radiating from the field
and taste the dust from the plumes of my footfalls
A hot dry zephyr runs its soiled fingers
through my hair and bids me to drink cool water
I race across the pastoral to capture that,
which has captured me
An image of tranquility from the soul of a master
A breath of life, a melancholy window, an explosion of hue
A sculpted moment, a capsule of time, a facade
Exhaling rainbows onto cloth
To enrapture you and I

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