The Impressionist

 

Light and dark, shade and hue

Implied the shape but never knew

Quite what was there or what was real

He only knew it made him feel

In tune with everything around.

In thought and touch, feel the way

The mind perceives his love of form

Such freedom may allow the soul

To feast on passion endlessly or

Touch the heart and be re-born.

With open eyes and open mind

Dispense with rules, relieve oppression

Look again and sink into

The certainty of his suggestion.

 

Arty Stuff

Poems

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