Rubens

There’s roundness in
this thinking, opulence
of symmetry where lines
and angles cannot match
completeness of the truth

These arcs of pleasing
matter fill a space with
graceful rhythms sweet allure
seducing eyes descrying
luscious places overture

More sensuous than ever
tamed by fashions pique
dimensions freed by artistry
in brush and paint caressed
where lust bespeaks

To feast upon a Rubens
is to grace a form of love
in innocence unstressed
by staid and girdled adages
undressed of a surplice
© 1 July 2010, I. D. Carswell