Art has always found its way
into my heart.
A time in history
standing still
without a care in the world.
The faces of those who have passed
still looking from beyond the grave.
A soul attachment,
a longing for movement.
The most precious painting
is of a young woman
with a bouquet of roses.
Smiling softly, as if a lover has gifted her a diamond ring.
Smiles like that are hard to capture
in with a camera.
Pale skin that whispers secrets
among the brushstrokes.
Golden hair wrapped around
my fingers with daintiness that
never exists in the real world.
A baby blue dress that never really fit
you correctly, but over the years it
seems to fit you more and more.
How I wish to pull you out of there,
my love.
One day, I will.
Until then, allow me to visit
and paint whatever you like onto your portrait.
Time will never escape us,
even in death.
About the Creator
Becca Mahar
Poetry is my passion. I tend to spill my heart out in my writing, so if you enjoy compelling emotional poems, my page is for you. I'm a neverending abyss of emotions.
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One Minute to Noon
“OK, guys!” I screech over the macaw-like chatter in my sophomore English class. My students are sharing mementos they accumulated during summer vacation. The assignment is to interview each other and write an expository essay about another student’s treasure: Misty’s coquina shells and sand dollars from Florida, Ruth’s two Navajo pottery mugs from New Mexico, Roxy’s perfume from Paris, Kevin’s chocolate from Hershey Pennsylvania, a picador’s sword from a bullfight in San Fermin Spain, where one of my favorite students, Manny Pérez, ran with the bulls at festival.
By Lacy Loar-Gruenler7 days ago in Fiction
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