La Galeria de GymArt This is PoeticGymArt from my newest series And Paint, While My Heart Dances
A Poem About The Lady
There was a time not that long ago
when the big country estate house
down the lane from the lake
was the only safe place for me
I was too young to understand then
but I always felt my best when there
I'd rush to the house right after school
and many a long summer day was spent there
A beauitful older woman lived in that house
related to me somehow, a great aunt or something
she traveled the world singing in theaters
and she sang for me the of her youth
while she danced the dance she'd danced for years
with grace, and perfection she taught me things
looking back I can understand what she was doing
it was she who released my muse
We'd sit and she'd tell me about life
things that I would have never known
she'd talk of places I could only hope to see
introducing me to culture, arts, and decadence
willing to give me the attention I needed
she feed my brain and kept my interest
the lessons were all well learnt well
and never forgotten to this day
For as long as I can remember
I would go to her house every chance I got
right after school for a few hours each day
till my mother would come there, and take me home
her house was the biggest house I had ever seen
the property had a tall wrought iron fence around it
and a giant metal gate that had a big S on both sides it
a gate hung from stone columns my grand father built
The room I spent the most time in
was the room she called the study
there were great windows on three of the walls
a terrace the length of one side of the room
so many afternoons I would sit there
just listen to her play the piano for me
sometimes when her niece was there
she'd teach us to dance as she played
The hard wood floors of the study invited young feet
to spin and dance away the hours
till evening came and it was time to leave
some days I would sit in the rays of the sun
that came in through the giant windows of the study
and paint with her watercolors or oil
it seems that even then I was a surrealist
and she loved my work
She'd tell me stories of places she's been to
told tales of adventure that always had a happy ending
sang to me the songs she did in her stage show
and I wish I could hear her voice now
I want to go back to her house but it's been sold
I need to feel safe again but she is dead
I want to sit in the rays of the sun in her study
and paint, while my heart dances