Van Gogh swirls
His brush just right
He makes the heavens
Come to life
The moon’s a
Mesmerizing sight;
Some homes are lit
With candlelight
The chapel bells
Are mute tonight
The starry sky
Sings its own tune
Dancing 'neath
His brush just right
He makes the heavens
Come to life
The moon’s a
Mesmerizing sight;
Some homes are lit
With candlelight
The chapel bells
Are mute tonight
The starry sky
Sings its own tune
Dancing 'neath
The painted moon
---
With carmine sheen"?
---
Through the bars
Of his asylum,
Vincent viewed
The starry sky
Before the dawn,
In vivid glory,
Made it vanish
From his sight
The mistral wind
Moaned through the cypress
Looming on
The inventive scene
What voices spoke
To him with venom,
Said, "paint a bullet
No comments:
Post a Comment