Girl in White, Alfred Henry Maurer (1901)
Girl in White, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
She stands unsteady in front of the doors,
Who is there she is not really sure.
Her thinking it be the one she adores,
But hesitates to be his paramour.
As so many it is love that she seeks,
It is not her choice to spend life as one.
Evidence must support what words he speaks,
Should he fail she will accept they are done.
Tonight she wears pure white for a reason,
Not to ensure that the day be brighten,
But to avoid any acts of treason.
Love will be o’er before it has begun.
She is within her right to remain strong.
Even if it’s love seeks to prolong
Landscape, Eugene Delacroix (c.1850)
Sand, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Standing looking at an ocean of sand.
From where standing it looks sterile and bland.
Kneeling down with it under my command,
Scooping up countless grains of it in hand.
With rhythm between each hand the sand is panned,
As if ruthless authoritarian.
Some grains lifelessly fell back to the land,
Was not intended to have them disband.
Examination not as I had planned.
Those still held is it likely to remand?
Better to be humanitarian,
To couch inside a feeling that is grand.
Now standing beginning to understand,
For each grain of sand this is their homeland.
Sovekammer, Vilhelm Hammershøi (1890)
The Empty Chair, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Why is there an empty chair by the bed?
Is there more than what’s already been said,
Of some awful thought which most surely dread,
The fact that someone is really dead.
Does not matter big or small, short or tall,
But sooner or later we all must fall.
Each will wear once the paltry saintly pall,
While the lofty choir sings a pastoral.
None should be eager for that final day,
But live life in the best possible way.
Dividing your time between love and play,
Yet never praying forever to stay.
Best that we can ask if our lives are good,
Lives are temporary is understood.
Rest, Vilhelm Hammershoi (1905)
Love’s Challenge, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
In this chair I sit not so far from you,
Almost able with fingers I could touch.
The softness of you is within my view,
O so eager to have you in my clutch.
Is it not better sitting face to face,
So the beauty of your eyes I may see,
And the allure of your face I may trace.
Is it possible my desire to be?
In this moment must my heart be content,
To wallow in memories made to share?
Do not know of any need to repent,
Nor wish your response be a silent stare.
Great love for you comes not without its cost,
All I’ll bear for without you I’d be lost.
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?