Poem #93 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction
the sheet is painted
the detail drawn
here
the house
where she grew up
mama at the roses
papa out the back
planting veg
there
the shady tree
with the marking
of birch-swept rooms
all around it
a tiny cup in the space
for a fine serving
of little-girl tea
the fence
she leant against
to receive a first
fresh
kiss
can you see the outline
of her sweetheart beau
in a mirror
there he is again
just after she said goodbye
young sadness
in that frame
and in the middle
large at the start
then fading
is the path she trod
the road she took
when she went away
for good
although
she’s really
still
quite present
do you see
that’s the easel
and there
the paints
the brush seems still wet
and heavy
from the last scene
that she is finishing up
just now
© Frank Prem 2017
Bachelard and me Poem #94: life inside
Beautifyl
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Thanks R. Delighted you enjoyed the piece.
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Np, check my spell check, didn’t catch my flub!😂
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I saw it, but I read the sentiment, not the spelling. 🙂
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Cool.🤗
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