The National Gallery (London)
sittingin a corner
I notice pictures
that for years
had been blind to me
exquisite blues and golds
a rainbowed cloak
allusion previously lost on me
of saints and sinners
the Magdalen
in the palest green
sitting on the floor
at the Master's feet
reading the Bible
not yet made
a face of plain appeal
the Florentines battling Siena
a Christ
who looks so tender in his pain
terrified
flat opulent Venetians'
bourgeois malice
then
in the farthest room
a Mary
where have you been my friends
when my eyes could only see
but never notice?
Poetry by Peter Humphreys

Read 779 times
Written on 2008-10-20 at 17:01




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