The artist cannot find peace of mind
Neither can his spouse
Who suffers at his side.
Since seventeen years Ana’s portrait
Is burned into his mind
As he sets out to take
Words turn into sentences
And a face emerges on the
Double folded page
Of his red notebook.
Her eyes filled with deep passion
Look concerned at the artist
Who creates and recreates
Her face
Furrowed with lines of love
Love strokes with fingers
Hands and body
In a love of burning passion
That masked her face
He had depicted so many
Years after her passing.
More than a figure played
Continually on his mind
A dance of body and soul
In Mystical projections
On his mind.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’17.
