This Artist's Poem - Nel Davis Artist

A Splash of Colour, Perhaps

I called a colour, and it came to me.

I asked it what it was.

The colour laughed and spun around

It became not one but three.

I put out my hand, but it flowed away.

“Tomorrow,” it said, “You’ll know.”

So today is tomorrow and I contemplate.

To settle my mind, my easel.

But I can not think,

and my hand not still:

Precious paints upended.

One, two, three

Spill from the pallet and twist and run…

Then two become one.

Three become two,

or one or many more.

“You’re colour” I said. “I know.”

But the colour laughed and said “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps you’ll never know”.

by Nel Davis 2025