The roses glow in their own white light.
Hints of pink hide in their folds
As bright summer tones warm from below
Giving the illusion of life within.
I stop.
I get close.
I follow each stroke.
How I envy his seeming simplicity.
The subtle touches of minty green.
The reflection of a hallway in the vase
That Escherlike suggests its setting.
My imagination begins to build on the scene.
I wander down a dark corridor into the past.
I picture Miss Havisham standing at her mirror
Dressed in fresh linen and lace, waiting.
I picture Emily Dickinson at her desk
Her face reflected in her bedroom window
The dark room lit by a single candle
The feather of her quill pen lit by the moon.
The corridor has many doors
And behind each a secret.
I long to explore
Peeking through keyholes
Listening through walls
In hopes of unlocking
A new door into my own
Curious world.
I like this, Suzanne. As usual you invite us in, and the poem flows easily and logically. The last stanza is perfect, I think, leaving us wanting more. An ekpphrastic poem of sorts, this made me revisit Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn—the dude could write! And it’s a kind of philosophical treatise packaged in a lyrical poem. You may have read it already, but this poem of yours brings to mind mine titled On Rembrandt’s Bathsheba. -Glen
Thanks Glen! Now I have to look up ekpphrastic! Like all the the poems of yours I have read, I can instantly recall the main visual of the poem. In this case, I think it involved cellulite :)
Suzanne, such a wonderful poem....................10++++++++++++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! .. Beautifully beautifully breathtaking! .. Beautiful emotion and flow! .. Thank you ever so much for sharing this! .. Ever so very many 10S! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! +++++
Thank you for always commenting Rebecca! I really appreciate your support!