Paintings

Paintings
Surrounded by the works of others,
I wonder what inspired some,
Who would want to draw an apple?
What purpose does it serve?
Purpose? I question,
Art needs no purpose,
Because it IS art,
That is it's purpose,
Another draws a lake on a peaceful day,
Somehow I can almost imagine standing on the edge,
Breathing in the still, yet fresh, air,
My eyes grow weary as some repeat,
The only difference being their artist,
I come to the last picture,
Perfectly taken at the right moment,
I realise then I'm in no gallery,
No room or long hall,
But in my own memory,
Lost in thought as I recall,
Looking and taking in a collage of friends, family, animals, art, material, everything that reflects what I am,
And as they blend I see my own face,
Smiling back at me