Windy Knob, Greg Sieczkiewicz (2018)
Windy Knob, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Night is now being chased into the past
No signs of hurry to get underway
Tis a time I wish would forever last
Calmness allows my mind to slowly stray
Pure is my vision of new fallen snow
Landscape of white uncomplicated sight
At ease staring at its unsullied glow
Providing no reason to be contrite
Reality tells this moment won’t last
The sun shall slip higher into the sky
Pairs of eyes of many will be amassed
With their loving kisses they shall not shy
Life at Windy Knob is sight to behold
With children untrammeled out in the cold
Elizabeth Jane Gardner, After the Engagement (c. 1882)
Woman in My Life, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
You’re the sunshine that greets me every day
Your soft smile puts one on my yawning face
Your eyes so bright a message they convey
Your lips many kisses on mine do place
Your first embrace steadies my wobbly feet
You are the sweetness in my morning cup
Your touch is the first I desire to meet
You are the one that makes my heart gallop
Your love gives to me such warming comfort
Your strength to pick me up when I am down
You give me special joy the way you flirt
You do all of this still in a nightgown
You are the one who truly made my life
Each morning I give thanks you are my wife
Il Povero Pescatore, Puvis de Chavannes (1881)
The Poor Fishman, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
The river so flat and still like dried paint.
Not sure if what I say is a complaint.
Father you know that I am not a saint,
But help the fish and me to reacquaint.
Today I say that my day shall be long,
Not returning here until the next dawn.
Yet during those hours I will sing your song,
Giving praise and praying that I stay strong.
The fish I pray for not only for me.
I think of my poor weakened family,
Healthy and strong I pray them all to be,
For it is in them my whole life I see.
To Saint Peter the fish You did help send,
It is on Your will that our lives depend.
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.
Charity, Williiam-Adolphe Bouguereau (1865)
Charity, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Here she sits on the steps of misery,
With left hand out she seeks not our pity,
Nor does she show signs of being angry,
Then why is it she makes this drastic plea.
The children show no signs of violence,
She has no marks upon her solemn face,
Serious doubt to be public nuisance.
What is her plight she seeks us to erase?
Shall we stop, ask what is her condition?
What horrid fear is it to grieve her so?
Will you give the time to take some action?
Or just give a coin and tell her to go?
Are we so calloused so as not to care?
Or being polite avoiding to stare?
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.
Charles Napier Hemy, Waiting (1895)
Waiting to See, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Stretching the eye as far as it could watch,
Where the sea and the sky meld into none,
And all to be seen is a mere gray blotch,
Then comes the end of the earth; it is gone.
Waiting, impossible for heart to task,
Still there is demanding work to be done.
Smile to be worn is but a flimsy mask,
Fearful of the solemn bell to beckon.
The shadows run long, time to be ready.
Six days a week this is the constant drill.
Shortly to learn, the nerves must be steady,
For it is now we are told of God’s will.
Stress has left my chest with the boat in sight,
Though the sun will soon set my heart is bright.