Ode to Florence
A sprawling city wide,
the dome high above,
white walls in a circle,
a river running through.
Medici birthplace,
Medici pride,
artists alive,
church scarce.
FLORENCE
A Glorious Work of Art
Paint splashing on the ground,
brushes creating a swish swish sound,
artists working all day,
they have no time to walk or play.
Slaves to their wonderful work,
they paint away and if they jerk,
the paint is unfortunately smudged,
a work of art completely fudged.
A painter's life was hard,
hours or days barred,
from the sunlight and fun,
until their work is finally done.
Since the 2nd poem rhymed, it made the information so much better to read.
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ReplyDeleteYour poem was long, and it had a lot to do with the Renaissance.
ReplyDeleteBefore you write a poem about Florence, you visited this wonderful city!
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