Form: Byronic Sonnet
In art a simple man becomes legend,
His dreams remain to grace the viewing eye,
Ideals that question ev’ry reason why
Yet does not fear what comes to then portend.
In fantasy it seems we must pretend
To learn that senses have a right to feel
In this a world where nature is surreal
And shady truth has political ends.
Yet still the artist’s voice echoes within
A painted face; and from canvas eyes see
Beyond brushstrokes that linger thick and thin
In his art of natural liberty
Here love has purpose and knows not of sin
We see the wonder found in mystery.
©JG Farmer 2012