The Painting
The painting lays sprawled, arse up on the red carpet,
it's naughtiness displayed for all
Shameless it lays there, naked, no frame
and seems to poke fun at the crowds, I would say.
It begs to be thought of as art by the toffs
though some beg to differ, the painting just scoffs
for its strong self belief makes it hoity-toity
as it shows off its je ne sais quois, fa di di
Dare you to differ, consider its faults
it would tell you you're lacking in intelligence.
No culture, no delicacy and no style
then it will go to the wall and just smile.
I linger a little, look up and then down,
peruse the said image, so regal and proud
then move very slowly on to the next
while the poor dear looks hurt and a little perplexed.
poem by Ruth Walters
Added by Poetry Lover
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