Alchemisland

Thank God for beauty, Turner exhibition in the Tate

Take it in some evening, be amazed

Turn in where you normally wouldn’t, as if fate

Compelled diverted course

Found yourself before grace

Itself

Ships and men on the sea, as if we were meant to dwell there

Navvies hauling ropes in a swell, unwell yellow sun melting pastel

Distended shapes, hulls like gulls gullet swelling with hunted herring

Yet more lifelike, evoking bronzen meridians.