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there's a painting on my wall
an unknown artist i can't recall
heading for the bin i made a claim
venice is alive once again

the depth of such is quite unique
the mirrored images quite a treat
the colours blend and weave a call
as if no river exists at all

idle gondola's laze around
while the gondolier shades his crown
waiting patiently for a fare
his life a joy of little despair

ancient walls precipice the sky
chimneys breathe their warm sigh
rooftop gardens a green lace
between old buildings and sky's space

i wonder how long they sat there
in that room with that stare
capturing detail day after day
till this painting finally had it's say

one of colour that does rebound
but has the softness of the stillest sound
of depth and clarity and even crisp
gracefully structured on easel without lisp

the more i look the sharper it seems
revealing itself within my dreams
poised so elegantly on my wall
the name of the artist i cant recall.......
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2013
About this poem:
when someone asks i can never recall the artist hence the words ......but it has been done by a lady named charlotte ...........that is all i know

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