This is a poem written when Leo Luke Marcello first introduced me to ekphrastic poetry. (A dramatic description of a work of art.)
This is for you, Dr. Marcello.
The Bath
One hundred years
much has changed, but little
daughter’s foot, mother’s hand
washing the hard-spent play.
Towel-draped cherub
rests, nestled in her lap.
Pearl skin and raven hair,
reflections of genes well spent.
Delicate flowers
the pattern recurs,
wallpaper, pitcher, and carpet
blooms of life and growth.
Satin striped robe
same violet echoes
rim around the washbowl.
Repeats the circle.
Love without end,
grace freely given,
whispers the lullaby
washes eternal.
“The Bath” picture didn’t open up for me right away, so I didn’t have the visual of the picture to see when I first read your poem.
I liked the poem Chris but if I were to be honest, I like your stories much more.
When we had to write poetry in English class all those years ago, I failed miserably at it…LOL.
I did get the image in my mind of that picture through your prose which means…you did a GREAT job if you can make that happen with me 🙂
Love it, Chris.
Thank, Linda.
Thanks, Linda. I’m trying to follow in your wake.
Beautifully written, Chris.
Thank you, Brenda