Inspired by a Visit to Matisse

Shadow lady,
from wherever-you-prefer
cash-only for hire,
she an artist’s muse.
Name-her-as-you-wish
pose her as you will.
Her rule, never touch,
sparks a masterful brush.

Face concealed,
enveloped in a penumbra of voile
anonymity always required.
Pastels, oil, charcoal, or clay
shades of black, white or grey.
Bright hues perhaps?
Your choice.
Clothing optional, save the veil.

Perched upon a chair,
garters hold stockings taut
bare breasts paint themselves.
Curses fall upon that masked face,
as she survives within the pale.

Fee collected, she hurries home.
Scarf thrown upon the chair
no mirrors with which to see
that face so hidden then,
now sipping cup of tea.

Years later,
accompanied by her spouse
she visits galleries,
genteel pastime of the upper class.

Smiling ever so slightly
she spies her former self,
framed in golden gilt
hanging upon the wall.

She, an artists’ muse,
their anonymous visage.
Paid a pittance then
worth a fortune now.

IMG_5733

Written for today’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. I’m delighted to be hosting so step right up to the bar. The prompt word for today is “shade.”  Use the word itself or any derivation of the word in the body of your poem. My poem today is inspired by a recent visit to Boston’s MFA to see the Matisse Studio exhibit. I was enamored with this painting, Seated Figure with Violet Stockings, oil on canvas, painted by Matisse in 1914. My imagination took a leap from the painting to this musing. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us in the shade!

Impressionist Scene

We walk silently, side by side
wander from delineated path.
Step softly
into mountain meadow
enveloped in heady scent.

Wildflower carpet at our feet
damask cloth spread upon the blooms.
She sits demurely
holds one tempting peach aloft,
just beyond my reach.

I stretch to touch her wrist
guide velvet fruit to slightly parted lips.
Succulent flesh drips sweet nectar,
blurs into rivulet on milky neck.
And I sit mesmerized.

Her image blurred through tears.
Serene beauty
framed amidst soft meadow hues.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Bjorn hosts and continues with his exploration of artistic movements. We are to paint with words, in the style of Impressionism, capturing images to create a scene. Impressionism is not dark. We are to lighten our poem with colors, but preferably not using color words. Instead our images/objects/scenes mentioned should evoke a sense of color by their very nature. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come share your impressionistic view or just stop by to imbibe some words!