In Picasso I see the form
A kaliedoscope of shapes
Of objects and humanity
Jumbled and realigned
A true prismatic view
Of twentieth century new
In Van Gogh I see the color
From his vivid mind's eye
A wheat field in a blazing sun
Bursts from a speckled canvas
A bolt of warmth and joy
To soothe a tortured soul
In Monet I see the light
In all its wonderous shades
How it dazzles off the snow
And how it seems to hide
In shadows of the trees
In multitudes of blue
But in you I see it all
More than pictures on a wall
A vision to behold
A form to make me whole
More colors than a rainbow
A light to light my soul