Peter and His Meeting with Dali in Spain

Peter drew and painted with all his heart
his soul filled with a passion for the art.

Peter and His Meeting with Dali in Spain


He looked down at the moist freshly tilled soil

daydreamed an escape from this artless toil.


Remembered his brother back from the war

how he dug dark weeks till his arms were sore.


Thanked the Earth the end of this conflict,

carnage that this first world war did inflict.


America hide in isolation

judged everyone without reservation.


Him, Peter, found time to read everyday

Expatriates moved to Paris to play.


So in the barn away from his parents,

away from landlords who pursued their rents.


Peter drew and painted with all his heart

his soul filled with a  passion for the art.




He saved his coin, every last dull penny,

moved to Paris with his hard earned money.


He studied the stroke of every last brush

drunk from the paints and pastels, an art lush.


He painted in a class taught by Matisse

befriended the artists of Montparnesse.


Over coffee he talked with Picasso

and over tea he communed with Miro.


Viewed a movie by Dali and Bunuel

decided he must get to know them well.


Moved by “The Persistence of Memory,”

to meet Dali on coast of Cudaque.


He packed his best paintings and headed to Spain

his head held high through torrential rain.




Found the ragged rocks of Catalina,

a vast endless creative arena.


His paintings securely tied to his back

a foothold here, his hands placed in a crack.


As he lifted himself up to his dream,

the bay below had diminished to stream.


Where he rested he looked out in wonder

at the amazing shapes made by nature.


He reached the top and decided to lay

next to a beautiful villa of clay.


He rose and walked slowly towards the door

struck by the simplicity of decor.


Unpacked his paintings displayed on the wall

out onto the vastness he gave a call.




A man of small stature strolled up towards him,

confidence through his pointed mustache trim.


In a thin robe he powered past Peter,

stared at the paintings to find their allure.


To Peter’s horror he began to toss

each painting down the cliff, no thought of loss.


Though Peter slumped down Dali picked him up

offered him wine from a porcelain cup.


He walked Peter to the edge of the cliff

looked in Peter’s eyes and said “Your too stiff.”


“Stay here and draw what you see everyday

the rocks of the cliffs, the water at play.”


“Draw from down here and not from there.”He said

as he pounded his chest and not his head.



Jamie Lee Hamann
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Jamie Lee Hamann

My name is Jamie Lee Hamann and I have a passion for writing short fiction and poetry. I started writing for TCE around 2015 and since then I have finished seven collections of poetry and plans for more. I currently live in Lemmon Valley NV with my family. If you desire to find my other work on the internet feel free to stop by my website The website offers articles on poetry, poems, and links to all my other writing.

2 thoughts on “Peter and His Meeting with Dali in Spain

  • June 1, 2017 at 9:41 PM

    Interesting tale with a single statement of truth. Creativity is a connection to a flow and cannot be accessed by will alone. Nicely penned Jamie.

  • July 24, 2017 at 7:02 PM

    The artist transition from a student to a master is revealing, the allure of so many, mentors a plenty, but follow their path, you must endure the constant study of brush, oil and paint to canvas. I loved this very creative piece, even Dali would be proud as he twirled his well groomed mustache still in tact years after his death. Bravo, kudos.


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