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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Romance/Love >> ID #1478618 |
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The Painter Standing before her, his look is pensive A frown of ardent concentration Upon his handsome face; One hand deep in his pocket Fingering specks of cotton. Shifting his weight, still undecided Picks up a brush, eyes with hesitation Some detail she cannot fathom; Flecks of light upon his cheek Where her hand had lingered so often. Brush now drenched in aubergine hue A smile of remembered conflagration Flickers deep in his sienna eyes; Broadly strokes the contours of velvet Her pale naked skin softened and glossed. Takes one step back, observing his progress Mixes shades for precise pigmentation Cornflower blue look back from the canvas; With each tiny stroke grows more impatient To bring back to life the love that he lost. Moves with graceful strokes perfecting the image Painted from memories of lust and temptation; Her violet lips begging for kisses Long, slender fingers that once touched his skin Now resting, elegantly idle upon his chair. Standing before her, his look is pensive Craving smile hides a painful sensation Spreading upon his handsome face; Adds emerald stone to ring on her finger Such as the one he once gave to her. Her long golden hair framing her features A loving smile has formed on his creation His head inclined, lost in his thoughts; Holds out a hand as if to touch her Feeling the wetness of paint on his hand. Gentle fingers trace her naked shoulders Resting his face against hers, sighs with frustration: “What use are my strokes if you can’t feel them? What use are these hands if I can’t touch?” Weeping, he rubs paint off his wedding band. Thank you to looking for keys in the dark
© Copyright 2008 Anne M R Chiles - *published!* (UN: annemrc at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Anne M R Chiles - *published!* has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |