- Limited Edition Prints
- The Skylark
A signed limited edition art print A3 sized, 297 x 420 mm (including a white Boarder)
Actual print size 260 x 260 mm
This signed limited edition print has quality deep rich colours and is on 300gsm cotton perlino art paper. Yum!
(50 available prints only)
This is a 'painting' made using collage techniques from the words of the famous Northamptonshire poet John Claire. His words have been meticulously used to create collage techniques that reveal lines of poetry and can be read within the picture.
My inspiration comes from nature and the local environment of lakes, rivers, a woods where I live. On farmers fields the skylark can often be heard, a beautiful sound that makes you feel away and at peace when out for a walk in the countryside.The words of the poem add a bit more magic to my imagination and allow you to see into the world of the poet and me - the artist!
The Sky Lark
By John Clare
The rolls and harrows lie at rest beside
The battered road; and spreading far and wide
Above the russet clods, the corn is seen
Sprouting its spiry points of tender green,
Where squats the hare, to terrors wide awake,
Like some brown clod the harrows failed to break.
Opening their golden caskets to the sun,
The buttercups make schoolboys eager run,
To see who shall be first to pluck the prize--
Up from their hurry, see, the skylark flies,
And o'er her half-formed nest, with happy wings
Winnows the air, till in the cloud she sings,
Then hangs a dust-spot in the sunny skies,
And drops, and drops, till in her nest she lies,
Which they unheeded passed—not dreaming then
That birds which flew so high would drop agen
To nests upon the ground, which anything
May come at to destroy. Had they the wing
Like such a bird, themselves would be too proud,
And build on nothing but a passing cloud!
As free from danger as the heavens are free
From pain and toil, there would they build and be,
And sail about the world to scenes unheard
Of and unseen—Oh, were they but a bird!
So think they, while they listen to its song,
And smile and fancy and so pass along;
While its low nest, moist with the dews of morn,
Lies safely, with the leveret, in the corn.