What is Love, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

What is LoveStudy, at the Water’s Edge, Berthe Morisot (1864)

What is Love

Every waking moment thoughts are of you
Even into my dreams you softly creep
A feeling no eraser can undo
Tis you in this heart forever to keep

Matter not time of day I close these eyes
You are here with glow of a golden sun
To this heart you’ll always be a surprise
Exciting ways to keep this heart you’ve won

Your pulsing velvet breath upon my skin
Turns this heart into a foundry man’s fire
While my mind becomes lost in a tailspin
You build in me a volcanic desire

Oh what an amorphous life this would be
If there were not another day of we

 

Allegory of the Apple, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Allegory of an appleStill Life with Apples, Paul Cezanne (c.1890)

Allegory of the Apple

Most perfect of her kind at the table
Beauty of such proportions I do mull
Resisting a bite unsure if able
My ravenous heartbeat there is no lull

Do dare to hold her softly in my hands
To move her towards my hungering lips
For such a sweet delight there were no plans
Reality of this must come to grips

All control have I admittedly lost
Knowing my thoughts are surely to anger
Must consume this beauty at any cost
Burning desire can no longer deter

Yes the sweet flawless apple I did eat
There will be penance for this tasteful treat

Unknown Woman, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Unknown WomanPortrait of a Woman, Sarah Mariam Peale (n.d)

Unknown Woman

Arrived rather early for the gala
Brick structure looked to be Monticello
Quickly pulled in by a woman’s aura
This beautiful lady I do not know

With her posture straight sitting quite stately
Neither a soft smile nor frown did she wear
Her emotions to be held privately
From a distance all I could do is stare

Moved closer to see in a better light
Did not blink, my eyes were affixed with glue
Now moved into her perfect line of sight
Her eyes were the color of perfect blue

She is more than a painting on the wall
For my weakened heart is in her thrall

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Viewed the above painting at the Washington County Museum of Fine Arts.  Sorry for the lack of quality in the image.  Her eyes are truly blue.

Washington County Museum of Fine Arts

 

The Visitors, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The VisitorsLa Neige, Charles-François Daubigny (1873)

The Visitors

The snow’s cold whiteness creeps up to my door
While the melancholy sun bids farewell
Mystically crows swarm more than five score
There is an urgent message they must tell

Raising my shovel they will not scatter
With great fear I hold my quivering breath
It’s easy to understand their banter
These darkened creatures sing their song of death

Where summer they’d quietly steal my corn
Autumn barren fields provide easy prey
Not here to repay my gun’s bitter scorn
No they’re just here to say this is my day

Would prefer a single singing angel
Rather than this rowdy crowd of babel

 

Come Closer, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Come CloserThe Farewell, James Tissot (1871)

Come Closer

This iron fence may as well be my cell
Cannot get closer to you if I may
Dare not to think this may be our farewell
Given but a single choice here I’d stay

The night’s wispy breeze has carried your scent
Of a new blossomed rose in early June
Not to get closer causes me torment
Such a distance like I am on the moon

Come closer so my hungry lips may touch
Silky softness made in heaven above
Come closer that your body I may clutch
To whisper words to you of my great love

Eternity will pass ’til the morrow
Till then my heart will be filled with sorrow

 

Our Deep Thirst, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Our Deep ThirstRoman Girl at a Fountain, Léon Bonnat (1875)

Our Deep Thirst

Confused for I know not its truest shape
It is big then again it may be small
With but little effort it can escape
May idle, slowly rise, abruptly fall

Not sure if it can claim to have a taste
It can surely be more precious than gold
Therefore a horrific sin it to waste
It is difficult in your hand to hold

So refreshing in it fully immersed
May provide relief to inner spirit
A miracle which quenches our deep thirst
Without it our lives we’d have to forfeit

Water as you quietly pass my lips
I relish the feeling of all my sips

La Boudeuse, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

La BoudeuseLa Boudeuse, Jean-Antoine Watteau (c. 1718)

La Boudeuse

Thou art beautiful my petite coquette
Prim and proper with many skills to tease
Attended finest schools for etiquette
But having no knowledge of how to please

Flirtatiousness doesn’t provide a defense
To protect thy young heart from tragedy
Thy words whispered are but a coy pretense
Speaking what’s in thy heart will set thee free

Let me caress thee with welcoming arms
That thou may eliminate this charade
Now quietly invoke thy loving charms
Assuredly thou beauty shall not fade

Looking into thy eyes to see thy soul
My heart now willing for thee to control