THE IMAGE

forgetful, frustration

She stares at a blank canvas

eyes glossy barely blink

ts all in here memory

fades in and out

time flows without a spark

she retreats to the window

opens it, fresh air floods her nostrils

deems it may benefit her neurons

no photograph to copy

merely momentary recalls of her past love

on occasion she sees him in her mind’s eye

yet it too dissipates swiftly

 

That very night she dreams of the two

a pleasurable evening in darkness of night

no moon, no stars

just a touch of devotion

she views his sense of passion

clearly as if he was beside her in bed

 

At dawn she awakens with a startle

adorns her sleeping gown

rushes to her studio

where the empty canvas awaits her

with brush and paint in hand

she drafts a quick likeness

then composes more accurately

his smiling face

in turn she beams

at the last brush stroke

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Stella Armour]

Ah Betty , i do like this scenario.
The portrait will be much better than copied from a photograph, it will be the image of a real person, his smile, his eyes, not a fixed pose at all , itw will be a living image :)

[Betty Hermelee]

That you Stella for this lovely review, the mind’s eye is much preferred than a photo!
Warmly, B

[Stella Armour]

It certainly is and you are very welcome Betty...

Stella