by Pat Jourdan
Slap and dash, that sharp perfume
hits an inner core, a starting sprint,
striking high notes, sharp as frost,
colours rushing, smudging, blurring.
Without its invisible strength
paint waits unworked, trapped in tubes.
Turpentine is the release of dreams,
creating the loops and swirls
mapping vital design and desire.
Compressed sunlight dashes out
with that tang, a picture’s birthpangs –
turps, the cool baptism of paintings.
Copyright © 2020 Pat Jourdan