The Painting

I shall release my imagination’s fancy.
I shall let go of my reservations
And allow the colours to go where they will.
The sky will be green not blue;
The trees will be red not green,
And purple is the only colour for the water.
I remember the Fauves, those artists
Who ran amok with their palettes of choice.
They shocked those people who only desire truth
And so will I.
You can’t bury them for their boldness
And they are named forever.
Enticement to regress is clinging
But I dissent and stay my plan
To lie with paint.
A splash of orange in the river,
And a throw of red in the sky
Add to the madness of my creation.
Will the viewer think me deranged
As others were?
Only the passing years will unveil judgments.
For now I am content to expand my conscious mind
Thinking only that I have tried
To be contrary and to inspire.

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