I don't know what to think about this one. In fact, I don't think I feel anything, so I shall not mind what you say about it! You have carte blanche!
In every aspect nature welcomes me,
the door is opened, lights turned down,
the music on. She flirts with me,
she dances lightly dressed, lays sweetmeats
at my feet and fills my eyes with visions
of great beauty, such that artists cannot
in their wildest dreams aspire to emulate.
In every aspect nature welcomes me -
save one. One door there is that leads into
a garden (so the gossip is), a studded door
that is forever locked to me. She will not open it,
nor talk of what it is that lies beyond.
Some giants have passed that way and not returned.
What could lie outside, but the very mind of God?
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
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Tom Lubbock, writing in The Independent (friday 15 May 2009) returned to the age old topic of censorship in the arts. Well, in painting act...