When she was four, she loved to sit underneath his desk, with her back to his feet. It was his way to assure she is still there. And also not seen by her mother, who preferred to have nothing to do with her.
She sat as quiet as a mouse.
From where she sat, she could reach into the lowest shelf of books: Encyclopedias, Bibles and Old Classics. She especially loved the work of Danté and of Milton, for it carried pictures by Gustave Doré. For hours she looked at the fine lines, etched in black and gray.
Her first drawing was a dry tree.
Her days were multiplied by when: When you are bigger, you may reach the higher shelves: those holding books on law and on life: case studies of love, mostly turned sorrow.
You may not trace pictures, her father reprimanded her. It is better to see your own pictures in your head first, and then draw what you see.
The pictures in her head ever since were that of Doré.
And finally, she had become the very lightest etch of them all.
Author notes
37
Art: Doré -- That Love which carries them along (Danté, Inferno)
In a list
A contest entry
- Titles by Diminished Capacity.
1075 points, ended November 9, 21 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
This is a truly remarkable piece, one that I have enjoyed reading. Thank you so much for entering my contest.
-
-
Thank you very much for this special Gold.
I so love to enter your contests. You inspired me to write about topics I would not have contemplate.
Love
Myra
-
-
Unusual and very readable. You held my interest all the way through. She was like a character in a story; you might do more with her if you are inclined.
Enjoyed this so much.
-
This beautiful, finely-fashioned piece is a work of genuine art - I absolutely love it!
In admiration,
Bill
-
Poet
Everytime i read another of your poems I am left in a world with many pictures in my head...Wondering if your write have not just a semblance of real life in them. But the images are always surperb.
-
i was having a debate earlier over confucius quote
"words are the language of heart"
they're rather what's left of it
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
