These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

A Picture, That Sings

The still life croons. The wall, the stage
as apple's basso drips
creating spicy sauce, the rage
of tongue beyond the lips.

These hosta mezzo tones in oil
recite his music piece.
The brush of Handel's greatest toil
brings Nature's blest release.

The Gleaners chorus fills the field.
It echoes through the room
to bless all hearts with sounds, that heal,
unbar the heart's lone tomb.

The Blue Boy peels the rafters rare.
Soprano notes ring high
as Gainsborough in wide-mouthed stare
doth contemplate the Why.

The treble formed in acrylic Bach,
Jesu, Joy of Man's Desire
to this new canvas all blest flock.
Great hope creates the spire.

A steak in watercolor fair
doth tempt the tongue to eat,
but ribs flamed prime or slightly rare
confuse the hoped-for treat.

Each canvas baked, a new delight.
Each song sung from the heart.
Each color feathered beauteous sight.
Each word a wondrous start.

by Jay O’Toole
on July 5th, 2022