Portrait Gallery: Creative License
One April Claude Monet became enraptured
With an oak, a vision begging to be captured
On canvas, bare limbs stark against the light.
Magnifique! Mon Dieu, he’d paint this right!
His brushes trimmed and paint on palette, Monet
With impressionistic fervor daubed his way
Toward greatness. Alas, it soon began to pour.
Zut! Gathering up his gear, he went indoors.
La pluie continued not one week but three.
In May Monet emerged to find his tree
Now hidden under leaves of verdant green.
Merde! he yelled, stomping his feet with spleen.
Not one to beat about the bush (or tree) ,
Monet demanded that the mayor of Giverny
At once dispatch a crew to strip each and every leaf.
Later he returned to paint a tree now wrapped in grief.
Chuck Toll's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Portrait Gallery: Creative License by Chuck Toll )
- Why Africa Would Not Bow, Jerome Chukwuemeka Edwin
- Walking With The Master, Heather Burns
- O night, you have so much beauty really, gajanan mishra
- Passage for, hasmukh amathalal
- I Did Not Know, Jerome Chukwuemeka Edwin
- Simply Spoken Life, Heather Burns
- Did You Ever Love Me, Peter S. Quinn
- On To the Night, Peter S. Quinn
- Haiku...Highway Heart Race, Ken e Hall
- Guaman Poma, Nassy Fesharaki
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)