Still Life Poem by Harry St Vincent Beechey

An apple - a pear - a wooden dish
And one flower, lonely in a vase
Is still life
A frozen moment of eternity.
You need only to look to see
A shining live apple.
Look very closely - Look
At the ruby red richness merging into the acid green.
The highlight of an unseen window captured for ever.
And the diamond hard glint of the crystal vase
Rigidly encasing the green stem of the foxglove.
And the pear, a humble poor relation of the apple,
Never hoping to match its crisp image
But heavy in its ripeness
Its flood of juice forever dammed
In a two dimensional picture.
And the lowly wooden dish, bearing all, uncomplaining
As it muses, indrawn, on its subtle grain
As uniquely whorled as any fingerprint.
A still life
Is still life still
Unique in its moment.

H.St.V.B,1972