Valentine’s Day Poem: Flowers for My Lady The Society February 14, 2013 Art, Poetry 1 Comment How that florid scent Wafts through your two vents Making all your senses yield To wilderness in a field. How the petals soft Carry you aloft To the clouds above us all, Lightly float and never fall. How the colors beam In a matching scheme, Fine art in a museum Painting over tedium. Yet how flowers fail! Before you they’re pale, My Lady across the earth, Rarest blossom the world hath. -Evan Mantyk Related Post Ode to the Confederate Dead by Cause Bewilder for Joshua Philipp Grave statue after statue falls with strict impunity. Memorials and monuments yield to community. The wind wh... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail One Response Bruce Dale Wise February 28, 2013 PEONIES, SHELL, AND COILED CANDLE: AFTER STONE ROBERTS Upon the pale and shiny stonework ledge sits shell, white vase, and beeswax candle coil. Here is a neoclassical-clear edge, a spare, fine atmosphere betrayed in oil. Peony petals drooping, perky too, in yellow, white, red violet, and pink, against the wall, a dark gray, background hue; one wonders how they smell, sweet, light, or stink. The smoothness is disturbed by sharp-shaped conch, the long-line grooves and patterns of the vase, the copper-finished plate and clip ensconced about the sixty-hour candle’s base. A New Dutch Realist has been let loose where once New Amsterdam was in the News. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.