rhyming couplets for paintings

the ceilings seem to vanish as divine color supports its place, grand lines run sweep round with speed as luxurious air finds grace.

looking down in thought's abyss, this man's attention focuses on striking bliss.

a choppy representation of landmark wonder, lost in theory and the brush's language reality is a blunder.

i'm tucked with subtle calm and enticing dreams await, no fear or loneliness nor danger comes this kind of late.

images are courtesy of http://www.guggenheim.org & http://www.moma.org