Peter Lewis is a friend of mine, met at the local Speakers' Club. He is also the cartoonist on our local newspaper and a serious painter as well. I am often fascinated by the abstract doodles he creates while listening to speeches. (Please, other Speakers' Club members, ignore the boring/snoring rhyme! I only used it for convenience!)
On my Clickpicks Blog you will see an example of Peter's excellent cartoon work.
A speech proves rather boring
So to stop myself from snoring
I grab a piece of paper and a pen.
I'm in creative mood
But my doodles are quite crude
Just feeble, artless, childish, matchstick men!
Then I'm glancing to my right
And I see a wondrous sight!
It's friend Peter and he's doodling as well.
But the magic of each line
Puts to shame 'art' such as mine,
And I'm quickly falling underneath it's spell.
There are circles armed with teeth
Up above and underneath
They are cogs all interwoven circling round
I can see that they're evolving,
Turning, twisting and revolving,
I can almost hear each harsh metallic sound!
Now he's turned his art to trees,
But you wont find trees like these
When you wander through the bush or other places,
For each random pencil mark
Has made features in the bark,
I see gnomes and ghouls with dark and threatening faces!
Every shape is interwoven.
There are devil's hooves, all cloven,
Mixed with angels' hair spread out between the stars!
He's exciting and impressing
With some shapes I'm only guessing....
Maybe creatures he's imagining on Mars.
Then I look down at my page
And I feel a sort of rage!
How I wish I could be similarly gifted.
But I know I wouldn't miss
Seeing doodles such as this.
And I leave the table joyfully uplifted.
But it really seems a sin
That he'll throw them in the bin,
Doodles no-one else but I appreciated!
For each one deserves a frame
And the signing of a name,
The name of him by whom it's been created.
Some works of art are greater,
Yet to me he's a creator
Of such accidental beauty and design,
That, though they are lost for ever,
His doodles are so clever
That the world should treasure each and every line.
What a clever poem about a VERY gifted artist.
His pieces are wonderful.
But you, with your words, show an amazing and different form of art.
"And I'm quickly falling underneath it's spell...."
I am grinning Brenda.... Given a paper and pen... you would've written a poem about the boring speaker - and he would've crimsoned if he ever got to read it.
Don't you cast a magical spell on all of us....!!
A nice tribute to everyone who has some unsung talent, in them.
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