His bright blue eyes
they saw the world
In myriad perceptions
a quiet man
in so many ways
enjoyed his own reflections
loving flowers and leaves and stalks
of collecting natural thoughts
an artist he was sensitive
just quietly going for varied walks
Registering the colours
and the light, that brought strange hue’s
he had an in house magic
with oh so many clues
a ginger beard
a wild moustache
a pale skin, but his way
of putting down on canvas
what his mind had seen that day
others found him maddening
A loner maybe, he
enjoyed the kind of world he saw
and brought to life for he
an artist on a journey
perceiving so much more
than all the man made claptrap
that others saw before
on his own his brush and palette
and conjured colours bright
Van Gogh had sought within his dreams
To create that special light.