Robert Bateman, an artist of the wild, never planned a career so mild. With childhood eyes, birds he'd trace, in Toronto's humble, nature's embrace. Inspired by Seven's artistic theme, he'd later chase an abstract dream.
Geography degree from Toronto's halls, then teaching art within the walls. Around the globe, he'd roam and paint, in a Land Rover, no restraint. Africa, India, lands so vast, his sketches flew in every blast.
As a teacher, he made his mark, in classrooms dim and so stark. But in '76, a twist of fate, Bateman chose to dedicate. His life to art, with vivid flair, creating scenes beyond compare.
Limited prints, a philanthropic plan, raised millions for his artful clan. Smithsonian's stage, a bustling sight, in '87, his star shone bright. A champion for Earth's fragile state, Bateman's art would advocate.
Realism graced his canvas wide, nature's beauty, he'd not hide. Spokesman for the planet's plea, art's power for all to see. Acrylic strokes on canvas fine, in solo shows, they'd brightly shine.
Films and books, his legacy told, in nature's story, he'd unfold. At Abbotsford, Burlington's door, and Ottawa's school, his name they bore. Honors and awards, too many to count, a life of art, beyond amount.
At ninety-three, he paints with grace, nature's advocate in every place. Robert Bateman, a legend true, his love for Earth, forever grew.
