Woman in the Garden, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Woman in the GardenMujer en el jardín, Pierre-Auguste Renior (1872)

Woman in the Garden

Emeralds, Sapphires, Topazes, Rubies
Filling my garden this sunny June day
Come walk, feeling the gentle warming breeze
See bees here and there dancing their ballet

Stop to wonder a greater sight to see
Profusion of color before my eyes
Drinking without pause all of its beauty
All on display under a clear blue sky

No need for the gardens of Babylon
Or Cimetière du Père Lachaise
Forget manicured gardens of Fairlawn
For me to be, there is no other place

Each little gem I consider a friend
This is where I shall my many hours spend


Windflowers, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

WindflowersWindflowers, John William Waterhouse (1902)


Thou garner my flowers then dash away,
Thy beauty is much greater than their sum.
Alluring garden would be if thou stay,
Just remain ‘til thee be final blossom.

Sent the wind to touch your ivory skin.
Purer than that of newborn mother’s milk,
Protecting thy beauty which burns within.
Come stay awhile so I may touch thy silk.

Do sense a hesitation in thy pace,
Thy action causes heartbeat to increase.
Turn so I may see thy beautiful face,
This feeling of love for thee shall not cease.

Let me braid my flowers into thy hair,
And I shall give my heart to thee to wear.


Thirsting, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

ThirstingBoy with Pitcher, Edouard Manet (1872)


In my body a desire to express
If left undone surely I will explode
Is your great beauty eager to possess
It is in my heart shall be your abode

To hold you intimately in my hands
Drinking of your young love with eagerness
With every sip my love for you expands
Oh to fully bathe in your tenderness

Your skin softer than the world’s finest silk
Touching mine makes me want you even more
This feeling of love for you will not wilt
As I never felt this anguish before

Quietly we can go to river’s edge
There together shall take the lover’s pledge


Among Flowers in the Garden, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Lega Silvestro (1862)Tra_i_fiori_del_giardinoTra i fiori del giardino, Silvestro Lega (1862)

Among Flowers in the Garden, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Silent among flowers in the garden,
Playing a game so aptly called Pretend.
Reading it appears, but already done,
To happy thoughts of you I may attend.

You’re here in a bed with many flowers,
Stooping down you are the very first pick.
Soon inside my heart a warm feeling stirs,
There be not any doubt, I am lovesick.

This book I hold, wishing it be your hand,
To walk with you under the summer light.
Your quickest return, if I could command,
It will not be pretend, lonely this night.

The morning will come, I shall make our bed.
Without you, a million tears will I shed.


Rhododendrons, a poem by Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Boch Anna-RhododendrensFemme lisant dans un massif de Rhododendrons, Anna Boch (c. 1900)

Rhododendrons, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Fragrances fill my air from very side.
The vacuum quickly pulls them inside.
To my memory permanently tied,
The sweetness of this melancholy ride.

This book with great effort I do proceed,
Reading each line more than once must concede,
For my euphoric mind cannot be freed,
Just to turn a page fragrances impede.

Rhododendrons may they be pink or white,
Provide many souls with so much delight.
Into a bag, every bloom in my sight,
To sprinkle upon my bed every night.

Knowing your season’s end be very near,
Patiently await your return next year.


Spring in Torbole, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Monsted Peder Mork - Saint Andrea's Church in Torbole (1909)Saint Andrea’s Church in Torbole, Peder Mork Monsted (1909)

Spring in Torbole, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Soon I will be harking to the church’s bell,
Giving me time to sit here for a spell.
To give Him thanks that it is here I dwell,
And pray I forever be in this dell.

It is spring so now I smell the good earth,
Which with the sun shall bring about new birth.
In our many fields there shall be no dearth,
From those hours worked before taking our berth.

If there be any doubt in what I say,
And of given reason for which I pray,
Suggest you linger long, extend your stay,
For sure you will not choose to move away.

Listen to the sweet sound, it calls all now,
To thank Him who this place to us endow.


Spring, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Voscher Leopold_Heinrich_Vöscher_Gebirgslandschaft_mit_GletscherGebirgslandschaft mit Gletscher, Leopold Heinrich Vöscher (n.d.)

Spring, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

Suddenly it’s spring, a time of rebirth.
Sun tells mountains to set the waters free,
Then green is the new color of the earth,
In fields and forests ever so densely.

As a sleeping bear comes forth from its den,
So has my soul at winter’s bitter end.
Feels so lightened now that it is open,
To get out as there are fences to mend.

Gather together with friends once again,
Each lending a hand whenever they can.
There’s real joy in all hearts for certain,
Looking around we see empyrean.

In our hearts spring is valued more than gold,
With happiness its glory is extolled.