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 ‘To a Red-Winged Black Bird on the Advent of Spring... To a Red-Winged Black Bird on the Advent of Spring For some a robin heralds in the Spring. Others: a crocus or a daffodil. My old man claims it’s... 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 Reply Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email.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.