Thick swirls of paint coat the blue night sky,
Luminescent stars ablaze: yellow white orbs, large in size.
Whirling white clouds under the crescent moon,
Above the asylum’s window the night sky blooms.
Below the rolling hills rests a sleepy little town,
A peaceful essence flows, cool dark colors unwound.
Reigning over the small buildings is the steeple of the church,
Beauty’s released from the bristles as he’s sitting at his perch.
With memories of Theo and thoughts of Paul Gauguin,
He attacks the canvas with broad strokes from his hand.
A single silhouette of a cypress on the left side,
Hides an early mistake as his broken heart cries.
1889, a typical night in Saint-Remy, Vincent’s puffing his pipe,
A committed genius from the asylum’s window painted the starry night.
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For Brian’s Contest PICTURE POEMS
The Starry Night
Vincent van Gogh,
1889 Oil on canvas
73 cm × 92 cm (28¾ in × 36¼ in)
Museum of Modern Art, New York City
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Starry_Night
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