Sandy Toes and Salty Kisses, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Sandy Toes and Salty Kisses, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

No word is said but both are listening
To the rolling of waves that kiss the shore.
The muted sun in the early morning
Cleared their minds and gave each mental vigor.

This was their quiet place, no problems solved,
Only energy of love was allowed.
So that greater feelings between evolved,
And love of each other would be avowed.

As the flight of an arrow walk was straight,
Being in the water and on the sand,
A sign of changing lives with unknown fate,
And that life may not go always as planned.

A quiet place is to share our wishes,
Get sandy toes and share salty kisses.


The painting is a Monet, it is one of many he did while visiting the small village in Normandy.  A nice place for sandy toes and salty kisses.

This place is not inspire this poem.  A friend was attending a beach wedding and posting a picture with the expression sand toes and salty kisses.  I just put a little meat on the bone



















Young Woman of Sparta, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Young Women of Sparta, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

While the three graces dance, dormant I lay.
Heart grows weary waiting for my lover.
Always true to me is what he will say,
And yet without reason I will suffer.

When I play a love song the tears begin
To fall. Of late is never a duet.
Tawdry laughter is much to my chagrin.
And in the end will it be my regret?

My lute lays silent ’til love signs do prove
Is I only who resides in his heart.
Be known when his clear eyes do my heart move,
And when sun is set nev’r are we apart.

On my lute do downy music we make.
Gently it moves keeping our love awake.


This is a Camille Corot painting and the model is Emma Dobigny who I mentioned in an earlier blog.  I chose this painting for thee reasons.  Corot was severely criticized for his mixed era painting.  Here he has the three graces and a lonely lover in current fashions when the painting was done yet he beckons back a millennium at least.  However, he does include symbolism accepted in that period, that being the the cittern or lute representative of external female genitalia.  Finally Emma, little is know about her other than she died at the age of 74.

I can see why Corot put the Three Graces in the painting. They add support to what the painting means.  Everything they represent is lacking in the foreground of the painting.  It reminds me of the old Lesley Gore song, It’s my party………….. and I’ll cry if I want to






A Nymph in the Forest, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


A Nymph in the Forest, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Stood singly before massive green forest.
So dense, road nor path has yet to be blazed.
No map, compass, walk’n stick or watch on wrist,
In search of a treasure which I once gazed.

Impossible task, so I was informed.
With only a vision, insane you be.
Without hesitation, ahead I stormed,
With desire in heart, a treasure to see.

As the sun light weakens, rest place will seek
A mat of moss and blanket of laurel.
Soon to lightly sleep, with one eye to peek.
Mind at ease by the scent of wood sorrel.

Tonight I dream the morrow brings me you,
For you are my treasure, a love so true.


Charles-Amable Lenoir is the creator of this beautiful painting.  He was a student of William-Adolphe Bouguereau which means that he focused on painting beautiful women. Lenoir did not gain much notoriety, but among art critics was highly respected.  In this painting we will not find symbolism only beauty so that is what I write about.  A fleeting moment were a man sees a beautiful woman peering out of a forest.  He is so overcome by her beauty that he decides to go in pursuit of her.

That is a fairy tale.  But what I am really writing about is real life.  The forest can be a city, any city.  The man could be sitting in a coffee shop and sees a woman walk by and be totally enthralled by her beauty.  Such a thought provokes the question, “Is it possible?” Can a man or a woman fall in love at first sight?  Especially a moving target. The first time I heard “Un Bel Di” from Puccini’s Madame Butterfly I fell in love with it.  To this day goose bumps appear on my arms when it reaches my ears.  The first time Vanilla Bean gelato met my tongue it was love and it continues to be my favorite. The first time I cast my eyes on the  Danse à Bougival by Renoir I was so moved.  Still today if I had my pick of but of one painting that would be it.  The moral.  First impression do mean a lot.

Whether or not it ends up a successful love match that is another question.  As in the poem all the love struck person can do is hope.







Attending to My Love, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Attending to My Love, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Rose early this day to spend time with you,
To see you, touch you, do what yet to do.
There can be but one first time, must be true.
Be gentle put aside male bravado.

Arriving quiet at your bed of white,
So kid soft yet lonely with only you.
Knelt gently, getting as close as I might
Reaching but stopped, not wanting to imbrue.

The sun peering in, you opened to meet.
No resisting now, I touched your nectar.
I placed it upon my tongue, it was sweet.
Looking about that had my simitar.

Leaning forward I kissed your velvetiness,
With skill I did cut your stem with swiftness.


The painting above is entitled A Still Life of Flowers laid on a Table  by Abraham Bosschaert.   The flowers are of course are tulips and the poem is not what you thought it was about.  It is about a greedy person going out to clip a prize tulip.  It is about tulip-mania in the 17th century.  There is also a movie be released soon that relates to it so rather than me cutting and pasting here are a couple of links.  No I am not a dirty old man, just an old man who loves to play with words.

Tulip Fever

Tulip Mania





Young Woman Weaving a Wreath of Flowers, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Corot-youngwomanweaving wreath of flowers

Young Woman Weaving a Wreath of Flowers, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Angry cannons in the hills spit their fire
Seeking to destroy the love of my life.
Morning time brings carts laden with much dire,
Around each cart swirling anguish is rife.

In my womb with husband’s very first child,
Given no notice, fear of distraction.
As such great notice, he would be beguiled.
My secret, ’til his return from action.

Each day is weaving a wreath of flowers.
For the father of our child safe return.
Giv’n it to Virgin with heaven’s powers,
For him to see his child I truly yearn.

Should upon the cart one day see his face,
He will wear the wreath to heavenly grace.

I have been spending some time getting to know Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot through this paintings, one of which is used to write the above poem of the same name. It appears to me that the sweet round young face captured in the painting is Emma Dobigny. Could not find any actual source given credit to her for the sitting. However, as a point of interest she sat for more painting by Corot than any other model. There were rumors about late visits by her to his studio long after good painting light had ceased. The same was said about Emma and Degas.   Soon I use an Corot painting for another poem and Emma again is the model.  The mood is quite a bit different.

I was moved by the painting’s softness. Not only in color but mood.  In examining painting I search for symbols here there is but one. The symbolism of eternal love in the wreath she is making. From that I let my heart fly.

Man on the Corner, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Thomas-Ginger-Man on the Corner

Man on the Corner, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Rose on this day, many smiles in my head.
Got ev’n better, hearing from special friends.
To the store is a must, task with much dread.
Can’t find what’s needed, what does this protend?

Enter to the world of shadows and pain.
Tis far beyond noon and the pains rattle.
It’s possible for one to remain sane,
Or is this the day to lose the battle?

Sleep is comfort but sleep remains wanting,
For dreams so horrific give comfort not.
Modest confusion in the mind did sting,
And tied the brain as a Gordian knot.

Approach to any corner needs a yield,
If a shadow be there my sword must wield.

Many people live a full live and never suffer from mental health issues.  Unfortunately I am not one of them.  The above poem is just a day in my life.  I thought it was going to be a great day.  Got out in the sunshine after making a phone call a great buddy and  texting with a dear friend.  All I needed at the store was some lights bulbs and milled straw.  I got confused frightened.  Had to fight back the tears.  The head was pounding.  Don’t know if the doctors will ever figure this one out.  We are not crazies. We are people with health issues.






Lovers at the Beach, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Lovers at the beach

Lovers at the Beach, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Lovers embrace at the altar of love.
A milieu of millions came before them.
Each smiles at Apollo’s glow from above.
Here to praise Venus from whence she has come.

The mist in the air does their love anoint.
Their wetness becomes symbol of union.
At the crash of the wave to it they point,
Such thunder won’t destroy their communion.

Remiss would they be, not to read each wave,
For the lovers, they are moments they share.
With understanding, a love they can save.
Their eyes held with magical force; they stare

Their love for each other is the reason,
They shall be togeth’r whatever season.


What is it about the Oceans that draws so many people.  The tides have been coming in and going out for millions of years.  There have been little waves and real big waves.  There was a time when people believed that there was a god of the sea.  The Greeks had Poseidon and the Romans had Neptune that would protect them while at sea.  Water is a symbol of rebirth.  There is purification in being touched by special water.  Just as we would read tea leaves or lines in our hand we can read the waves and what they portend.   It is all a mystery just like love is.

The painting was commission by a couple to celebrate their engagement and I down loaded it from here