I dreamt I sat with learned men,
who spoke on things diverse:
The effect on life by visual Arts,
and music, dance and verse.
Although at first argument was heard,
they came to one conclusion,
That mankind’s life without the arts,
would be a pale illusion.

Speaking first of Nature’s many gifts,
that observant men behold,
Those captured by an artist’s brush,
in vibrant colours - bold;
Often encourages timorous men,
should ambition slip away?
To pursue careers once set aside,
and set them on their way.

Debate moved next on how the Poet writes,
with his use of words and style:
They praised his use of subtle ploy,
by which he’ll oft beguile
A reader to attempt a noble deed,
or challenge a fearsome foe,
Or sometimes provoke others to laugh,
when sad or feeling low.

Next Composer skills were analysed,
as were their melodies:
They spoke of the pleasures music gave,
how it brought back memories.
But of music some found most pleasing,
Jazz was the best they thought,
With its free form of interpretation,
Life’s every mood is caught.

Though sentiments on dance were varied,
they did express the view,
That without masterful portrayal,
it means naught to me and you.
But should the spirit of the music,
be captured accurately,
The audience becomes enraptured,
with the artistry they see.

As the discussion was continued,
varied views were given,
On sculptors, carvers, weavers,
and how each one is driven.
When inspired by Muse and passion,
which they determine to appease,
Few will deny their vocation,
so the moment they will seize.

Although my dream was ending quickly,
still their discourse I could hear,
And conclusions they had reached,
were remembered loud and clear,
That when with talents we are blessed,
it would be a sinful waste,
If neglect allows them to moulder,
for gifts are then debased.

Rhymer  June 25th, 2018.