The Red Umbrella, Peder Mork Monsted (1887)
Summer Walk, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Broken shadows stir the air on my skin,
While resting at a fork along the path.
This day may choose the way I’ve never been,
Could be a pleasure seeing what it hath.
Told my chosen path has many a twist,
With many rocks may cause me to stumble.
Such be a challenge I cannot resist,
To test my belief that I am able.
Much to my delight the absence of fright,
Longer my travel much lighter the load.
Looking to the sky there was a bright light,
The reason of this began to unfold.
Realizing now I am not alone,
As this is the way to my Maker’s throne.
Scene of deluge, Joseph-Desire Court (1827)
Deluge, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Rising waters come not to their surprise.
Ungodly behaviors antagonize,
He who loves them and who He did advise,
Their very actions He shall penalize.
Within His power did save but a few,
Who faithfully abided by His rule,
So once again we could begin anew.
Now afresh His wishes we overrule.
Once more old behaviors we restore,
Even after He sent His only Son.
Do we dare to ask He do even more?
Do we dare say that the Devil has won?
Can still accept the baby if we choose,
It still remains with us to win or lose.
Young Girl Praying Carl Sundt-Hansen (1883)
Young Girl Praying, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Closing these eyes so I may better see,
Absolute beauty of Your holiness,
Or other distractions to capture me,
And last to show to You my humbleness.
I ask in my heart You will always be,
My abundant love of You be endless.
A love which I give to You so freely,
Of Your love never to become callous.
When I fall, to You my sins will confess,
Of these falls I shall be truly sorry.
It is You I’ve hurt in my thoughtlessness,
By falling into the Devil’s quarry.
O Father I ask that You be my guide,
Know it’s easier with You at my side.
Winter Scene with a Stream, Carl Frederik Aagaard (n.d.)
Allegory of a Tree, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Is this to be the year of my demise?
If to be asked would have it otherwise.
Gravity pulls hard but yet to capsize.
Not ready to say my final goodbyes.
Was not so long ago stood straight and tall.
Decades of buffeting, withstood it all.
Even angry attacks by vicious maul.
Through it all encountered refused to fall.
Who will be the judge to decide my fate?
Be aware that yet to be deadweight.
Coming of spring leaves I will generate.
Think it best if we just sit still and wait.
To make a judgement by a single view,
It does not really speak well of you.
Wildflowers in front of a Cornfield, Carl Frederik Aagaard (n. d.)
Stone, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Stone I am, here forever will remain.
No wind can blow me to another place,
Like your ripened seeds, with the least of strain,
So from earth your beauty will not efface.
To be you or any other flower,
Creating generations easily.
Here standing as if a giant anchor,
Never to speak of dearest progeny.
My actual tenure here you’ll never know,
Bearing the summer heat and winter cold,
And the autumn watching seeds you do sow,
But it’s the spring when my worth is told.
From the sun I shall collect needed heat,
Protecting your progeny’s tiny feet.