Art Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

Just what is art to the human soul?
Whether it's on canvas, or a potter's bowl.
Does it please the eyes, or lend a voice,
Toward a train of thought, or offer up a choice?

Are you a Dali woman, or a Picasso man?
Is it country music, or are you a rock fan?
With open eyes and with hearing ears,
Do you find contentment, or shed happy tears?

It's a personal thing, and it's name is art.
It mostly comes from an artist's heart.
Some may paint their pictures using only words,
And are as vivid as things framed or what's heard.

Sometimes art will take you toward
A worshipful frame of mind.
Other times you will turn away,
If it's of the most perverted kind.

Art is simply the creative way
A human being may bare his soul.
Like a seamstress weaving fabrics,
To turn pieces into a whole!