The Insipidity of Watercolours

I am troubled  by the sterility
Surrounding me in contrast
To the refined skies
Of your insipid watercolours
Dissonant and always perilous

Filled with colours that soften, that liquify
With a succession of vows I stride forth
In your world there is no being
Superior to the daisies
Or the spirit of sheep

Your sheep are omniscient, I sometimes think
Along with your hemlock and your heather
Peeping from cotton wool bodies
White as the sky
They conspire in dimwit disguises

Tasteless and colourless
No one hears them coming
Implacable as marble
Lucid and secluded
I carve patterns in their terrain

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2 Responses to “The Insipidity of Watercolours”

  1. sanabituranima Says:

    This is truly beautiful.


  2. Louise Says:

    Thank you. You are sweet.


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