Falkenstein Castle, Christian Jank (1883)
Castle in the Air, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Shall we build a grand castle in the air?
So great in its stature none can compare,
People will soon come from most everywhere,
In amazement will give a wondrous stare.
The architect plans are finally here,
After perusal not really clear.
What are you thinking that we do my dear?
Be brazen and continue without fear?
Builder says won’t quit until job is done,
Not too sure about the cost overrun.
It’s been two months and job has not begun,
Think the money has headed for the sun.
I’m thinking the house we have is just fine,
Let me pour you another glass of wine.
The Seamstress, Josef Gisela (1897)
The Seamstress, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
A seamstress fingers are made for action.
Parts she joins together to be just one.
The wedding dress she sews will soon be done.
But have feelings of the bride come undone?
Too young to understand what her life be,
Love glows now, but can change to misery.
So concerned with turning from me to we,
Then the need to extend family tree.
She asks, what does it take to be a bride?
Need to feel like a real wife inside,
To walk with husband, both in even stride,
Making sure any gap does not get wide.
Take each precious day, sew them together,
Being sure love withstands any weather.
Reading Woman by a Piano, Vihelm Hammershoi (1907)
Reading Woman by a Piano, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Love poems that I read instill me more.
Still waiting your special knock on my door.
Bearing the absence of one I adore.
O come, pluck the strings softly, I implore.
Do lovingly what you have done before,
With every note you’d play my heart did soar.
Come quickly, come quickly play an encore,
As I danced, your music was all I wore.
Your music more precious than any ore.
Come quick, so I may dance upon the floor,
A new step wish eagerly to explore,
Because my solemn heart great love will pour.
Not to be sad ’till you come, I’m foreswore,
For it’s you I shall love forevermore.
Jozsef Rippi-Ronai, Pensive Woman with Vase of Flowers (1896)
Feelings, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Take my dare and climb inside, read my mind.
Be forewarned there will be no lexicon,
No claim will be made that you are purblind,
Yet there is no ready catholicon.
Feelings cannot be tucked away from view,
No image be drawn of happy or sad,
Words or images are not in a queue,
Therefore no need for a pencil and pad.
Close your eyes tightly and attempt to see,
A feeling inside that currently be.
Is dark as darkest night you will agree,
Until you conjure up a memory.
And what feeling when the image be me?
My fondest hope is I make you happy!
Wintry Landscape with Frozen Water and Figure Statues, Johann Jungblut (c. 1900)
Winters Past, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
The glittering glow of winter’s first snow,
It is that time of year of so much cheer,
When Jack Frost puts on his seasonal show,
A time when we wish our love ones be near.
Is not a time to bundle up and hide.
Lights in each window to beckon with bliss.
Come in and sit awhile by the fireside,
Search for the mistletoe to get a kiss.
Turkey and toys, memories full of joy,
Sledding and skating for all of the day.
This is what I remember as a boy,
Now I see it in a different way.
Stress from hunger and pain are in full view.
Was it the same then I just never knew?
Golden Autumn, Slobodka, Isaac Levitan (1889)
Golden Autumn, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Here I sit on the hill silent and still,
Peering off to the end with mind spawning.
Autumn, the soft wind gives its gentle chill,
Time not move this day for this I’m yearning.
Relive this year impossible I fear,
Yet many memories forever be.
No doubt this has been a wonderful year,
Having those I love so much, near to me.
The darkness of winter shall soon be here,
With many memories shant shed a tear.
Plentiful laughs and giggles fill my ear,
Held so close to my heart with much revere.
In autumn some work to collect the leaves,
For me it is time to store memories.
Jo, the Beautiful Irish Girl, Gustave Courbet (1866)
Muse or Odalisque, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
The mirror shows the color of my hair,
But silent on my internal despair.
O but wishing this piece of glass could care,
As my quandary has been a nightmare.
With two so distinct can my love I share?
What I ask is it a request so rare?
Understanding it be an odd affair,
Yet to cast aside one would be unfair.
To make a choice of one my heart I’d tear.
A love of both no issues to declare.
Am able to withstand the wretched stare.
When Whistler or Courbet call I’ll be there.
Such arrangements are not so very quare.
Is it novel to have wife and affair?