A model sits motionless with diaphanous drape,
The paint in tubes, lies waiting for an escape,
An easel's standing, so central to the room,
On it a canvas. And nearby in the gloom,
An Artist leans casually against an open door,
Been thinking long, but now crosses the floor,
Pulls back the blinds to let the light rush in,
Adjusts his spectacles and prepares to begin,
Then with a flourish of his artistic brush,
Starts slowly to create a picture that's so plush,
A Work of Art maybe, perhaps an important one,
Which might see his name in lights, when it is done.
Needing to observe, he lifts his eyes to peep,
And finds that his model has fallen fast asleep.
© Ernestine Northover
I did not see humour, I saw a gentleness and beauty and a fine piece of work for anyones wall, well done, I really love this one, I could drink it in, You have the poets gift of bringing to life something beautiful from the minds eye of the artist, Love duncan
That will teach him to mess around won't it? Lovely read. Andrew x
I love the beautiful images here Ernestine! I especially loved how the light poured in when he opened the shades........beautiful! sincerely, Mary
Oh! what a sly humour Erne.Only a painter can do this.I love this poem very much.
Loved this one Ernestine.Just wondering how I would have awakened her.By a kiss? (If a female model) By a liberal application of linseed oil over the bonce? Joking apart I really enjoyed this one. Love Sid John.xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
haha, clever read. very well done, poised words and keen description. pen up, best care, sus