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.
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.
The Day After, Edvard Munch (c. 1895)
The Day After, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Here am I laying idle on my bed,
Wond’r what is going on inside my head.
Should be up doing things I always dread.
Will lazily linger awhile instead.
Having real trouble with what I’ve read.
Extremely troubling thoughts it did embed.
Thinking that down the wrong path I am led.
Somehow very soon these thoughts I must shed.
Not logical for myself to behead.
Now I hold tightly to a single thread.
Is it true, to a fool I soon be wed?
Am I the fool listening to what is said?
Dangerous to heed the gossip they spread,
All of this talk has made my face blood-red.
Theodore Robinson, By the River (1887)
By the River, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
When I am fully grown what will I be?
Am I destined to be strong as this tree?
Of a mind in knowing that I am free?
And to hold strong passionate faith in Thee?
To be free as the river flowing by,
As the many birds that travel the sky.
This very request Thou should not deny,
For through baptism Thy support I rely.
Need to be free to follow in Thy name,
To let my heart be Thy eternal flame.
The young heart that Thou so early did claim,
Make me ready Thy holy words to proclaim.
To make me pure of heart and strong of mind,
So in my heart Thy name will be enshrined.
Unknown Artist, Lovers (c. 1910)
Lovers’ Moon, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
So close to Cupid, fear we’re his target.
Come we shall take the staircase to heaven.
There memories made never to forget.
Lovers’ moon so bright will be our beacon.
If you be chilled, here take my loving heart,
Aflame of a resplendent love of you.
As you have neutralized every rampart,
Eagerly awaits your love to imbue.
Ask me not why I feel the way I do,
Very first sight of you love would ensue.
Such a feeling will always continue,
Admitting my love never to eschew.
Though tonight’s lovers’ moon is soon to set,
Its light on you face thoughts of when we met.
George Romney, Lady Hamilton as Circe (c. 1872)
The Muse, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Starring unfocused at empty paper.
If I be less than a scared cuttlefish,
Squirting ink into the unsafe water.
With absent thoughts ready to relinquish.
Magical words to sweep thee off thy feet,
Nowhere in my mindful search were they found.
Unfit of thy love to admit defeat.
Gridlocked mind must be hurriedly unbound.
Closed eyes thou stand vividly before me,
Beauty beyond that which graced to Circe.
To free this mind gladly pay the bounty,
But the cost is lost memory of thee.
This conundrum I am forever doomed,
A taste of thy love nev’r to be consumed.