Oil colour on canvas. 58 inches by 39 inches. For my poem: THROUGH A GLASS EYE Shattering the perfect illusion of opaque glass With one live eye, Mellowed by fires of the past The one eyed tramp Wanders about the derelict mansions Of a clown, Not able to walk on stilts To reach through the mask of a clown that he was. As he tumbles The dice of many faces turn Seeing sides of a clown That he would not have seen Within his castle walls. In a mirror - behind a clock - on a mantlepiece Are images of a clown In a reflection of memories. Through the eye of the clock That tells the colour of his time He sees that if he lost sight Of his perception He would soon lose himself To illusion. © Christopher English