Classic Poem

An artist once , in an ecstasy,
Fell dreaming down by a droning sea,
And, spellbound, threw on the canvas cold
A bandarille of burnished gold.
Then, o'er the dirk, with a bold hand spread
An oriflame of auroral red,
And underneath, with an inky brush,
A midnight motif where black waves crush.
The sunset died on the headland bold.
But left its wraith on the canvas cold.