I will guide your curiosity,
Let it build upon my own,
Back to back, nestled and stacked—
Your questing companion.
I will grow your confidence,
Let it stem from within my own,
Back to back, a successful graft–
Your faithful companion.
I will guard your trust,
Let it lean upon my own,
Back to back, against attack–
Your fierce companion.
Steal not the hours,
You wily-winged rogue,
For they rightfully should remain
With whom they’ve been bestowed.
Cheat not the teacher;
Dare not be remiss
In the payment of wages
For if you do, you shall know this:
Students spare no moments.
They’ve not patience nor the time
For work-weary tutors
Who’ve martyred their lives.
The years, they’ll not linger.
But their minutes, they are mine!
I shall use them to my fullest–
Re-energize heart and the mind.
Mistake not the errors
Of glories unwon
For grim-tokened failures
And rewards zero-sum.
No eraser, no whiteout,
No backspace, nor delete
Should ever disgrace
The lessons of honest defeat.
I enjoy taking a subject beyond the frame. It’s a little thrilling, actually. These old wagon wheels–trussed up on whitewashed walls like ancient and battered relics–were pretty subdued subjects, but cropped so that not a single one in the trio actually exists within the frame completely… and, suddenly, they’re a little subversive! It’s a quiet protest of sorts–circles refusing to be tamed by a frame.
Weary and woeful,
A dirge sung with tears,
Witnesses watched a lonely parade
March past like the years.
Though each sight, like a beacon,
Illuminated discomfort and pain,
Pupils constricted against the intrusion–
The silent profane…
Asking what would they wonder,
Would the witnesses be missed,
When they removed to the wilds,
As their irises insist?
Isn’t it obvious?
I’ve had a thing for you for years!
Through all the highs–
Oh, those glorious moments of clarity–
And all the lows
(Let’s rather not speak on the subject),
The warmth of your fluid embrace
Has washed over me…
Making the mornings bearable
And the evenings a delight.
If you didn’t already know,
Coffee, how I love you!
I would have you smile,
Or, even, stranger.
I would have you dance
Of infant wishes
And every momentary chance
A study in joy–
Kindness in miniature.
To let go…
When it’s all just for show,
Who will applaud when you’ve broken your soul?
(The stage was set,
But the hall remained empty
Except for one musician.)
Freed from contempt,
Bear arms that now emptied
May reach for the rest…
And rewards, which find themselves waiting–
Too long repressed–
Wandering in the childlike euphoria
Residing in the heart of process.
(Prompt: A fifty word drabble)
Cool, unearthly, calm… his voice broke through the void of conscience. Shards splintered the patterned floor–diamonds cut by glass.
“He’ll kill you now.”
Maybe. Most likely not, but it would hurt.
“Want me to stay?”
Perhaps. Would it feel better being watched?
“I’ll be in the corner.”
Charcoal sketch just before our 15th wedding anniversary
I took up sketching two years ago, an offshoot of my love for photography. I’m a music teacher by trade, though, and my ability to play the clarinet does not translate to getting the perspective correct on a sheet of paper… at all. Modestly, I’ll admit to being painfully slow and lacking in technique. However, the ability to lock yourself up in a practice room for hours on end, incrementally working towards a musical goal, absolutely transfers to any artistic endeavor.
This portrait is the culmination of a goal I set for myself this summer. I wanted to draw my husband’s face. I did sketch exercises and played with my chalk pastels, watched a dozen tutorials on YouTube to see how artists approach portrait drawing. Nothing compared to laying the medium down on paper, though. Shaping and coaxing lines into those resembling the face I’ve looked upon for almost two decades now was rather daunting… a face I came to realize, as I layered and blended charcoal, I know as I do my own.
Sure, it’s a sentiment that’s tossed about. One would hope you know your significant other’s visage quite well. However, on this occasion, while drawing this portrait of us, I felt as though I truly did… because I had to really look, commit and linger… just like in the beginning when love was new and discovering an exact eye color was cause for intense celebration.