Look at yourself
looking out of the frame,
all snaggle-toothed with glasses.
Look at the flesh
on show, the tints
of pinks, off-whites and yellow.
Look at how
these things happen now,
miracles and parables for today.
Look at the dead
resurrecting and reuniting,
daisy fresh, as if they’ve never been away.
Look at Cookham,
Glasgow, Macedonia
and Heaven all made magical, seen anew.
Look at yourself
unabashed and naked,
staring us down from the pages or walls.
Look at how
you imagine each of us
among your lovers and neighbours.
Look at us looking
all these years later,
entranced by the paintings you made.
© Rupert M Loydell
Stanley Spencer Self Portrait, 1959
.