Beauty

Deep in a forest a river flows
and there floats Ophelia, in death-
There is a deep silence, a hush and beauty in the landscape,
deep green water grass and drifting jade moss
so soft and delicate like satin it seems-
The water is dark and deep and sinister
yet the scene is one of peace-
Foliage lush and overgrown hangs over the river
     and an old tree leans into the water
        and growing everywhere are yellow buttercups
             purple nettle and white daisies-
Ophelia holds a bouquet in one hand
the other she holds up where once flowers she held
    the colorful blooms represent beauty and immortality-
Her rich brocade dress is sodden and heavy now
and her beautiful face sees only heaven-
                     Oh, my painters hand wants to continue
to paint the beautiful decaying and ever blooming forest
    oh, over here more ferns . . . 
         more red poppies.. some purple, some white
             more, more, more-
My hand is an extension of my mind, I have lost control,
time is nothing, time is suspended and I paint . . .
and my pseudo shall be Beauty-

_______________________________
June 19, 2017


Poetry/Free Verse/Beauty
Copyright Protected, ID 17-1224-850-01
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Submitted to Strand Select  L
sponsor, Brian Strand

Third Place

artfree verse

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