where he has bled

a tribute to dudley vaccianna, artist per excellence
 
a blade of grass
a fallen star
a meteor
a moon
a lonely lass
soldiers at war
bromeliads
abloom
 
kandinskiad
manet-monet
kleetonic tones
of ire
loins scantily clad
papier maché
etchings on stones
by fire
 
he syncs his mind
in God's big hand
and comes away
with mirth
where once the blind
his hand-some wand
a new display
gives birth
 
for dudley's eye
sees innocence
where complex lines
crisscross
casting the dye
against life's dense
and serpentine
faux pas
 
no quiet place
the artist's bed
where wake his pen-
chant dreams
'tis no disgrace
where he has bled
to give lost men
esteem
 
© Copyright 2020 May 12
by Clyve A. Bowen♫