In the spirit of the latest thread and the ladies talking about Calgary and cowboys....This cowboy has found a poem that is timely.
This is known as 'Cowboy Poetry' and its called....
'The Masterpiece'
A traveling artist came into town
offering portraits for a reasonable fee,
All the people lined up and he did really well
for his work promised immortality.
Now the girls at the brothel wanted one too
and the artist agreed they could pose,
But his easel collapsed and he spilled all his paint
when they proceeded to take off their clothes.
For the sight of so much lovely feminine flesh
left him ruffled, perturbed and upset,
This was a painting he might never complete
since his palms were beginning to sweat.
But the girls knew the trick that would settle his nerves
And by time they were finally through
He painted with passion of one truly inspired
And kept yelling “MICHELANGELO WHO???!!!”
The girls patiently posed as he worked through the night
Never once did his flawless strokes cease,
Till the first rays of dawn lit his canvas with light
revealing a true masterpiece.
People came from all over to admire this prize
Even though the models were ladies of sin,
The girls didn’t mind the intrusion at all
since it brought dozens of customers in.
Now the painting changed hands many time through the years
till no one remembered its true claim to fame,
Its origin and models could never be traced
Since the artist neglected to paint in his name.
Many years later a very rich man
bought it for his wife’s next birthday,
He assumed it was an artist’s depiction of nymphs
and planned an unveiling at a fancy soiree.
You see nudity was acceptable to the cultured and rich
That’s what set this fine gentleman apart,
He considered himself a connoisseur and believed
That anything this lewd must be a great work of art.
The night of the party the room was abuzz
As the guests gathered around the display,
The host announced he was ninety percent sure
it was a Rubens or maybe Manet.
The fanfare of trumpets and the rolling of drums
produced a fitting unveiling effect,
But the stunning silence that followed the last clarion note
Wasn’t the reaction he thought he would get.
No one said a word as they gathered their coats
and quietly hurried outside,
He wasn’t sure he heard right but his wife seemed to say
something about social suicide.
He wondered why his guests had walked out
As he gazed at these beautiful nudes,
To him they were simply a true work of art
And his friends were nothing but prudes.
But as he stared at the painting the light finally dawned
and he realized his huge oversight,
For on closer inspection it was
perfectly clear
that the Mayor’s wife was the
third from the right.
This is known as 'Cowboy Poetry' and its called....
'The Masterpiece'
A traveling artist came into town
offering portraits for a reasonable fee,
All the people lined up and he did really well
for his work promised immortality.
Now the girls at the brothel wanted one too
and the artist agreed they could pose,
But his easel collapsed and he spilled all his paint
when they proceeded to take off their clothes.
For the sight of so much lovely feminine flesh
left him ruffled, perturbed and upset,
This was a painting he might never complete
since his palms were beginning to sweat.
But the girls knew the trick that would settle his nerves
And by time they were finally through
He painted with passion of one truly inspired
And kept yelling “MICHELANGELO WHO???!!!”
The girls patiently posed as he worked through the night
Never once did his flawless strokes cease,
Till the first rays of dawn lit his canvas with light
revealing a true masterpiece.
People came from all over to admire this prize
Even though the models were ladies of sin,
The girls didn’t mind the intrusion at all
since it brought dozens of customers in.
Now the painting changed hands many time through the years
till no one remembered its true claim to fame,
Its origin and models could never be traced
Since the artist neglected to paint in his name.
Many years later a very rich man
bought it for his wife’s next birthday,
He assumed it was an artist’s depiction of nymphs
and planned an unveiling at a fancy soiree.
You see nudity was acceptable to the cultured and rich
That’s what set this fine gentleman apart,
He considered himself a connoisseur and believed
That anything this lewd must be a great work of art.
The night of the party the room was abuzz
As the guests gathered around the display,
The host announced he was ninety percent sure
it was a Rubens or maybe Manet.
The fanfare of trumpets and the rolling of drums
produced a fitting unveiling effect,
But the stunning silence that followed the last clarion note
Wasn’t the reaction he thought he would get.
No one said a word as they gathered their coats
and quietly hurried outside,
He wasn’t sure he heard right but his wife seemed to say
something about social suicide.
He wondered why his guests had walked out
As he gazed at these beautiful nudes,
To him they were simply a true work of art
And his friends were nothing but prudes.
But as he stared at the painting the light finally dawned
and he realized his huge oversight,
For on closer inspection it was
perfectly clear
that the Mayor’s wife was the
third from the right.
