Talents are somewhat appreciated, understood, applauded.
Somewhat?
Observers look at the external varnish seeing superficial beauty
Unappreciative of complex artistry and cerebral gymnastics
Patrons groan oohs and ahhs as color schemes,
Lurid sunsets, mystical rainbows steal their superficial appreciation
of the muse talents in Apollo’s arena.
Fascinated by paranormal dimensions, engaged with 5th world cohorts
Ensconced in brightly lit third floor writers dens and palettes askew
Driven to capture the fleeting clouds of inspiration
Delighted by thoughts talking in middle night séances
Sweating to encircle darting thoughts, sunset images
Six-eight –ten hours of never tiring genius
Van Gogh, Mayer, Shakespeare are always present
Always, Always
To capture the candle scent of the masters of yore is
A blessing in ones vein.
Watching the ghost of creativity walk away into the
Foggy canyons of smudged palletes is a muse denied.