The Artistic Eye (I Wish that I could Draw)

I wish that I could draw 

To trace on virgin pages 

With a gliding nib, acquainting

The ink to worldly apprehensions

Reflected forms in an obsidian mirror. 

Oh, to absorb the variegated vistas

And dabble the bristles in the perceptive pools,

For that is the artistic eye. telescopic,

Attuned to the finer things, like the 

epidermal veins through viridian film. 

Or waxy climbers, scaling 

Cottage walls, engrossers of porous stone

Clawing to white gloss sills 

A riddle of whorled trunks, only 

The most skilled sketcher can solve.

But the pen laments my efforts,

Irked to leave meaty blotches, paint pustules 

Steely wires which scour,

The folious skin, violet bruises, 

Poison seeping into beige fibres.

I wish that I could draw

To trace on virgin pages 

With a gliding nib, but for now

I will paint my world with words.        

Reviews

[R Smith]

Alas I have to share this sentiment, the years of yearning to make the unruly hand draw a simple picture always met with the sainted matchstick man!!! Take heart James, what passes for art in this world today your meaty blotches may well be worth millions, blotch away.

[James McFadyen]

Wow, thank you for investing such confidence in my work. I will blotch away!

[Lyn Anderson]

Lovely way to bring it back round - yes writing paints the world in a way, different from painting, for sure, but art nonetheless.

[James McFadyen]

Most certainly, though I still envy the artist!

[John Alexander McFadyen]

As always James your technical ability and your aquaintance with a wide vocabulary and the soul with which you truely paint your words, produces another masterpiece!