MS ( / )

No Overture

There is no overture to art, no time
Of introduction whilst the painting grows
To fullness and the viewer slowly knows -
As with the steps of melody or rhyme -
What fired the painter's brush. Sublime
On first encountering the eye, art flows
Directly past the questions thoughts impose
And nestles like an arrow in its prime
Recipient, the heart. My words belong
To time and space and stumble through their praise,
Whilst even birds need sequence for their song;
But paintings come, as lovers come, down ways
That know no past or future, right or wrong,
And give of their abundance as we gaze.

by Mary Spain

Comments (5)

But paintings come, as lovers come, down ways That know no past or future, right or wrong, And give of their abundance as we gaze. Excellent comparison, liked it.
Excellent poem.A painter brushes his emotions on the canvass.Art is but a release of feelings.A 10.
nicely done sonnet - my favorite iambic rut -poetic furrow
A wonderful narrative Mary. The piece flows without change.The theme is a great one as is the manner in which it is posed. There is no begining of art; the is just art. The desiveness of that makes this a very strong and assertive piece.
What a pleasant poem; an enjoyable read.