Post-Impressionism

(Lines written after viewing Mr Arthur Dove's exposition of the 'Simultaneousness of the Ambient') I cannot tell you how I love The canvases of Mr Dove, Which Saturday I went to see In Mr Thurber's gallery. At first you fancy they are built As patterns for a crazy-quilt, But soon you see that they express An ambient simultaneousness. This thing which you would almost bet Portrays a Spanish omelette, Depicts instead, with wondrous skill, A horse and cart upon a hill. Now, Mr Dove has too much art To show the horse or show the cart; Instead he paints the creak and strain, Get it? No pike is half so plain. This thing which would appear to show A fancy vest scenario, Is really quite another thing -- A flock of pigeons on the wing. But Mr Dove is much too keen To let a single bird be seen; To show the pigeons would not do, And so he simply paints the coo. It's all as simple as can be; He paints the things you cannot see. Just as composers please the ear With programme things you cannot hear. Dove is the cleverest of chaps; And, gazing at his rhythmic maps, I wondered (and I'm wondering yet) Whether he did them on a bet.