The gathering place
A room with square toed silk shoes moving in time and grace
Soft shadowed faces, skirts in lace
Ribbons in their hair perfectly in place
A pallet of colors captured in France
Were lovely young girls would perform and dance
Some of his works were of shapely women in the nude
To some just a spectator, it was found so rude
Merely his eyes shining in perfection
A window through the soul
of fluid angles and deflection
But whatever the subject
he spied through a keyhole and captured
What became a marvel of sequels
and harmonious rapture
Today his paintings are a sheer joy to the eye
And can be found in duplicated prints hard to deny
We thank dear Edgar for vision and pastels
And the long-lived tales your work shall tell.
Edgar Degas
The artist (1834-1917)
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