When Matisse moved to Nice

When Matisse moved to Nice

In a world without peace

It was all that he dreamt it would be

After painting his room

To enlighten the gloom

He directed his brush at the sea.


For how was he to know

When he made the bay glow

He’d be leaving his mark for all time

While they weren’t queuing yet

For his take on sunset

In due course they would find it sublime.


As in just a few years

He’d have matrons in tears

Who had missed out when he was unknown

Each inspiring new work

Driving husbands berserk

When compelled to buy what they were shown.


He was part of a set

Connoisseurs won’t forget

Who saw life in a modernist way

Though their critics exist

They’re most often dismissed

As old fashioned and stuck on cliché.


In contemporary style

They’d enchant and beguile

With their technique and singular pattern

And their fame on the rise

It was no great surprise

They would soon be the toast of Manhattan.


With Cezanne and Renoir

Modern art had come far

But Matisse and Picasso stand out

For their time on the Cote

Made the art world take note

And allowed their rare talent to sprout.