Connoisseur
Note: this poem is in the form of 'bref double' but they don't have it on the list.
You are a connoisseur of wine and eyes
Are you looking at me, through me, or past me?
A living ghost with formidable prowess
Or is sight in your head and are you blind?
Though your intention is to render a scene
Art is in the eye of the beholder of thine
The stories that you tell by sitting so serene
Form the labyrinth to unravel in your mind.
The desert of your hair is swallowed by famished skies
They are an inky throbbing throat of greed
Each swell of hair a mound of desert gone to seed
Wild man you are redeemer to your kind
Are you an artist or is art your disguise?
The famished skies render you powerless
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