Snowdrops, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Snow DropsBlanzifiore, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1873)

Snowdrops

In my lonely heart it remains winter
It is you who can break this darkened spell
If into my heart your love will enter
Providing much warmth, the cold you’ll expel

This tender flower a symbol of you
The snowdrop so frail yet with much power
Able to conquer the snow, pushing through
Destroys winter, being spring’s first flower

Beauty in its display of purity
It whiteness shall shine bright into the night
As the vastness of your inner beauty
Making your presence a loving delight

My heart given freely at your command
From this day to go forward hand in hand

Girl with Flaxen Hair, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Girl with Flaxen Hair.jpgA Classical Beauty, Leon Comerre (1880)

Girl with Flaxen Hair

Standing before me, I tried not to stare
A living Greek goddess, with skin so fair
Eyes of sparkling jewels, extremely rare
Such beauty, more than any heart could bear

Angelic words she spoke, I never heard
Captivated by redness of her lips
Every thought at once was totally blurred
As from her goblet she took supple sips

My ailing heart she gave a coup de gras
Tossing her lengthy hair from her shoulder
As if she was throwing gold dust afar
Fire in the heart now began to smolder

Now is known that I never had a chance
Girl with flaxen hair to start a romance

 

Mirror, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

MirrorThe Mirror, Dennis Miller Bunker (1890)

Mirror

Mirror that I hold you are very cold
Giving me chills as to what you may tell
Always revealing the truth have been told
Of ghastly rumors your power to quell

My eyes are closed, holding you a full length
That you may see greater amounts of me
To open my eyes seeking inner strength
Afraid of the truth of what I’m to see

What if those rumors are really true
Apt to disappear quickly from all sight
No opportunity again to view
An old dejected spinster filled with fright

External features to be our measure
At the expense of internal treasure

 

Shoes, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

ShoesStill Life with Shoes, Emil Carlsen (c.1915)

Shoes

There is a large box in the center hall
Containing something more precious than gold
They’re what some may choose to hang on a wall
Symbols of memories from young to old

Wherever traveled my shoes took me there
Be it smooth road or rugged mountain trail
In a year’s time often had but a pair
Some failed as I walked through the nearby swale

Looking closely at my laced up new ones
Wondering what new travels are in store
Now must wary about these bunions
Shan’t detour desire of many miles more

Life is a journey of countless footsteps
Over worn shoes are signs of my journey
Scuffs and scrapes memories of my missteps
But their creases have captured life’s beauty

It is You, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

It is YouBerthe Morisot, Edouard Manet (1869)

It is You

Why is it that love has become a chore
It is you I give myself evermore
It is you only that I do adore
It is you I could not love any more

It is you who truly make my life bright
It is you I desire to hold so tight
It is you I want always in my sight
It is you I hunger for every night

It is you who now give an awful fright
It is you who I fear may soon take flight
It is you whose heart I must reignite
It is you my loving heart that I plight

If it be that your love I can’t restore
Shall quickly quit this life forevermore

The Sleepwalker, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The SleepwalkerThe Sleepwalker, Maximillian Pirner (1878)

The Sleepwalker

A love to steal, who she thinks is real
Pondering over him both day and night
Her deep anguish she attempts to conceal
Searching the darkness without any fright

In the secret of her mind he’s divine
She claims his perfect love never to spurn
Eager to have their hot bodies entwine
Before daylight she finds a safe return

She knows one day of finding her lover
That she would soon share the warmth of his bed
Then one deep dark night she did discover
The exact place where he did lay his head

On the narrow ledge, not taking a breath
Wind came along, now falling to her death

From the Sea, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

From the SeaThe Birth of Venus, Sandro Botticelli (c. 1485)

From the Sea

Light, bright as the sun falls into the sea
Forcing thousands of ripples to the shore
Disrupting the quietness quite pertly
Curious bubbling foam each ripple wore

Substance steadily stacks at water’s edge
When suddenly a wind came roaring in
Whirling all if it were a swirling dredge
Ceasing abruptly as it did begin

Then suddenly before my very eyes
Slowly grains of sand falling to the ground
The remaining form much to my surprise
I stood their helplessly without a sound

Such great beauty in her pure nakedness
Was the goddess of all beauty, Venus