Yes or No, Edmund Blair Leighton (1890)
Yes or No
With a feeling bluer than my nosegay
Worrisome heart in doubt, life uncertain
Still not knowing what exactly to say
Is today to be the final curtain
He claims an undying love ever true
Is there a chance his love to go a stray
But he gave a feeling I never knew
Feeling continues till this very day
Is confusion of mind, love that I feel
Thought love to be much joy and happiness
Not an aching heart, a painful ordeal
Yet such warm comfort from his gentleness
Yes or no, somehow I must now decide
Shall it be goodbye or become his bride
Image manipulated by author
With bucket of water, squeegee and rag,
Performing menial chore I abhor.
For it will always make my spirits sag,
Daily cleaning of the stately glass door.
Fully covered with finger prints galore.
Strange as it be that it has no push bar,
Makes me hate this nasty door even more.
Without a key lock makes it more bizarre.
Limitless numbers who come but can’t pass.
Is this door’s only purpose to harass?
Or clearly an obstruction made of glass,
To ensure creation of an impasse?
Now clearly understanding took an axe,
Gave the mighty wall of glass forty whacks.
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.
Country Courtship, Herbert Wilson Foster (1895)
Country Courtship, Robert A Sieczkiewicz
Within your tender heart is there some doubt,
Of your love of me or my love of you?
A yearning love for you there is no drought,
The fire you lit runs in me through and through.
My hand I put forward asking for yours.
Your choice made be free as these great outdoors.
Knowing that you can open many doors,
Pray hands be joined under the sycamores.
Don’t know what to us the future may bring,
But each day my love of you shall I sing,
Every morning shall be another spring,
If you decide to wear my wedding ring.
In this life I have but one aching fear,
That your two hearts unable to be near.
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.
Carolus-Duran, The Kiss (1868)
Wedding Night, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
My aching heart quivers when you are near,
Feelings euphoric of such I nev’r knew.
There is a great passion for you. I fear
My love ev’r present is only for you.
Your lips of red velvet I ache to kiss.
That touch, electricity do I feel,
Sending me into a frenzy of bliss.
Undeniable, this heart you did steal.
Kiss me deep to touch my heart, kiss me strong,
For in your heart I forever belong.
Kiss me sweet as sweet can be, kiss me long,
so I can feel the tend’r touch of our song.
No sensation greater except for one,
To be felt b’fore this night of love is done.
Carolus-Duran did this self-portrait to celebrate his new marriage so I thought it fitting to write a poem about their fist night as husband and wife.