His Immediacy

Misjudged and laughed

To be nothing more

Than a spot on this wall

Framed in memories

Laminated in timeless hues

Challenges painted, now

Tearing  in blistered paint

Weathered by fame

A wall where he hung

His soul, primed in gesso

Stretched over a canvas

Innocent and unprovoked

A tender poetic sinew

Harbouring his realization

Defining his innate existence

Never quite found or lost.

Edwin James