Cleo de Merode, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Boldini Giovanni cleo-de-merode 1907

Giovanni Boldini, Cleo de Merode (1907)

 

Cleo de Merode, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Cleo Merode ballerina prima,
You are most of all a beautiful flirt,
Putting hearts of many in a coma.
Oh! The power your dancing does exert!

A king you have brought to his royal knees,
With gentle smiles and those daring brown eyes.
Captivating and ensnaring with ease,
On the stage with that tantalizing guise.

You move from place to place with utmost grace,
Stealing men’s weakened hearts along the way.
They dream of touching your beautiful face,
And into their waiting arms you will sway.

Is it the very moves within your dance?
Or your raw beauty which creates the trance?

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Past and Future Joined, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Beraud Jean-After_the_Misdeed

Jean Beraud, After the Misdeed (c. 1885)

 

Past and Future Joined, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Yesterday is just that, it won’t return,
No matter how many tears I let fly.
For its return, yes certainly I yearn,
To right my many wrongs before I die.

Time has no handle on the exit door,
There but the future for me to explore.
Becoming friends with people I abhor,
Laying on kisses to those I adore.

Life is too short to have fear of the past,
But if I have sinned against another,
Must make loving peace that will ever last.
Giving love shall always be the clincher.

The length of the journey we do not know,
Therefore share your love oft before you go.

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Finding Heaven, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Moran Thomas-Forest Scene 1870

Thomas Moran, Forest Scene (1870)

 

Finding Heaven, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Standing among the subtly gold and green,
In a playground so wondrously serene.
Pausing, then vacuuming air so clean,
A trespasser in a place so pristine.

Harboring a weird sense that I’ve been seen.
Looked about everywhere with eyes so keen.
Showing my intention not to be mean,
Be transparent in this idyllic scene.

Kneeling at the water filled my canteen,
Calming, as if served a shot of morphine,
For my heart it provides such a cuisine.
With its Maker my meeting to convene

When asked to vacate, was not unforeseen,
As Heaven is for souls not to be wean.

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Chasing a Butterfly, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

z-Charles_Sims__Butterflies1

Charles Sims, Butterflies (1904)

Chasing a Butterfly, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Why thou so ev’r eager to capture me?
Only to put pin through my quiet heart?
Shall I be but a mere trophy for thee?
Tis bett’r to be still for romance to start.

Sit ever still and I will come to thee,
To light on thy bosom thou heart to feel.
Such precious time a place for me to be,
My wish only more of it we could steal.

The beat of thy heart makes my wings flutter.
Wonder if on thy lips sweet nectar lay?
Me on thy lips no sound will thee utter,
Here for a moment I will want to stay.

If many hearts thou continue to slay,
Thy promising love will soon stay away.

Woman with Fan, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Watson John Dawson-woman-with-a-fan 1871

 John Watson Dawson, Woman with Fan (1871)

 

Woman with Fan, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Diligently studied the manual,
Using obtained skills I think to be good.
Results being a disappointing null,
At this point I qualify for sainthood.

Carrying it open in the left hand,
Signal for any eligible man,
The holder is without a wedding band,
Lonely heart for the taking if you can.

Next to a man of your choice let it drop
Sure to stoop and return with smile to you.
No heart gained with this foolish prop,
Shall find better way to a heart so true.

In the first trash can was its proper place,
As I turned my heart was filled with his grace.

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Man Strolling in a Wooded Landscape, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

 

Mills A A- Man Strolling in a Wooded LandscapeA.A. Mills, Man Strolling in a Wooded Landscape (c. 1850)

Man Strolling in a Wooded Landscape, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Life as in Death is forev’r waiting to see,
Nev’r really knowing what is to be.
Stopping to think is this really me,
Will there ev’r be an answer to my plea?

Am I living a dream within a dream?
Being honestly knowing what things seem?
Staring, wondering, is my life beseem,
Is it possible my soul to redeem?

Were I a mere ant scurrying onward,
Never able to speak a single word,
My inner most thoughts never to be heard,
Would I some sort of penalty incurred?

Shall my worth be measured by word or deed?
If deed, from this body I must be freed.
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Wedding Night, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Carolus-Duran,_1868_-_Le_baiser

Carolus-Duran, The Kiss (1868)

Wedding Night, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

My aching heart quivers when you are near,
Feelings euphoric of such I nev’r knew.
There is a great passion for you. I fear
My love ev’r present is only for you.

Your lips of red velvet I ache to kiss.
That touch, electricity do I feel,
Sending me into a frenzy of bliss.
Undeniable, this heart you did steal.

Kiss me deep to touch my heart, kiss me strong,
For in your heart I forever belong.
Kiss me sweet as sweet can be, kiss me long,
so I can feel the tend’r touch of our song.

No sensation greater except for one,
To be felt b’fore this night of love is done.

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Carolus-Duran did this self-portrait to celebrate his new marriage so I thought it fitting to write a poem about their fist night as husband and wife.