At last in late sun and moonlights early glow
she settles in peaceful repose
allowing her mind
to wander.
Her eyes see the pages but
thoughts take her on long
forgotten paths that no-one
knows are there except she
herself and, those aches she
hides so well
inside.
Her heart knows the pain
that she carries even though
mist’s of time have
somewhat obscured the
view.
Leaves about her flutter
… she softly sighs.
She reads.
Occasionally writes.
Thinking in ways which only
romantics can
Of lost loves and passion’s
feelings that fire her
soul to paint portraits which
inspire other’s eyes
to shine.
She is a poetical lady
and it’s words that steal her
heart away as they too
in turn
steal mine.
~~**~~
© Daydreamertoo *All rights Reserved
Always loved that painting. It speaks to me in so many ways about so many things.
Shared with dVerse Poets Meeting the Bar: Writing Characters.
You introduced to a painting I have never seen, and paired it with perfect poetry.
I think of my own poetic inspirations in this… Those who break my heart… Sylvia Plath, for instance. I like the way you unfolded the stanzas and brought it home with those final lines.
So delicate and gentle 🙂
A beautiful description of a painting that so much can be read into…you kept her demure in her musings…like poetical ladies would be at that time…
Lovely…like how you weave her.
“Her eyes see the pages but
thoughts take her on long
forgotten paths that no-one
knows”
…always do that too when I read.
Delicate romantic lost in the world where words don’t hurt
She is a poetical lady
and it’s words that steal her
heart away
Words can have a dramatic impact on relationships. Yes, for someone poetic though! Nicely written Bren!
Hank
Good characterisation and good poetry, too.
A beautiful poem … poetic to the core !!!
You capture her so beautifully with your words Bren, and I too agree with Victoria and Gay, soooo Emily Dickenson / Sylvia Plath like ~ smiles ~
So familiar the other thoughts in the way…lovley..
very nicely done. Really excellent characterization. Love the mists of time have somewhat obscured the view. Great read. thanks
such a soft pastel write….lovely ~
I was moved by the familiar glimpse into her poetic soul, waiting for the other thoughts to leave so our muse could enter..
calmness, lovely poetry!! beautiful…as only romantics can.
amazing how we really don’t know what goes on inside…
Lovely, especially the last stanza……”as they, in turn, steal mine”…..
So beautiful…
Lovely, This was a emphatic journey of a poets mind.
A beautifully-captured portrait of the poetic.
Sad that the pain creeps up, but guess it’s there in us all some way, romantic indeed too that is true.
A lovely painting…she is indeed an inspiration for you to pen the words ~
I simply love this!
“Her eyes see the pages but
thoughts take her on long
forgotten paths that no-one
knows are there except she . . .”
I get the feeling that I am reading about you here, as if she is a mirror instead of a window into another world. Sometimes I pretend I am Elizabeth Barret Browning, though I am much more mobile and in truth, I know only her sonnets. This is so precise that it is probably in your imagination as you describe your picture, but know, if you hadn’t made her so real, your readers wouldn’t be guessing who. Well done.
It is beautifully romantic and I love it too!
Anna :o]
This is beautifully romantic. Loved it.
We are a sisterhood/ brotherhood of poetic ladies and gentlemen … and the inspiration we give and receive to each other is wonderful … Lovely, Bren.
thinking in ways only romantics can…that made me smile…we do tend to think a little different…smiles….def sad but also….you know…i think our pains drive us to write all the more…smiles.
words can steal the heart so easily.. i like how you paint her…in such soft colors…
Sad and romantic, very lovely.
I immediately thought of Emily Dickinson. There is a wistfulness and loneliness that emerge in your words, and the hint of lost love.
I agree with Victoria, but so many women poets come to mind – Adrienne Rich, Mary Oliver, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf. There is a delicacy here as well in the untold, in the missing details. Lovely.