After the Greeks had made a start
Chaucer's journey led the way
Shakespeare spoke, left nothing new to say
For those who follow the writer's way.
Rembrandt with wise eyes, brushed personality naked
Van Gogh, crying for help, scorned for what he did, died
Picasso, breaking woman into pieces, took art a further stride
Dali tried to keep his Freudian theories sacred.
Tchaikovsky, revealing the deep, depressed emotions
Suffered contemporary sexual divide
Puccini, where tenors in sadness hide
Stravinsky doubted for his Rite of Spring commotion's
Breaking conventions with a Northern sense of humour
Lowry, belched chimneys, cripples, match sticks and fun
Sibelius, forty years silent, the cold Finlandish one
Gershwin, bridging gaps, succumbed to a deadly tumour
Too soon his journey done.
Henry Moore with nudes, reclining
Dylan Thomas writing through his revellers torpor
Mozart, boy genius, death as a classic pauper
All teased public taste into redefining
What is art.
What is art?
Reflections of the day?
Looking at things another way?
Those pictured here all are gone
But notice how the art, lives on.