Notes About The Poem
FOR MY FRIEND WHO IS FEELING ILL, SHE IS THE ARTIST IN THIS WRITE, LOVE YOU MY FRIEND, CHERI
The Portrait
THE PORTRAIT
A simple stolen moment's blessing,
At rest, a portrait made in honesty.
The maid frozen, in stances freeze,
Is she, a silent expression, of an artist
Hand, placed upon the canvas.
Yielding, to the artistic vision, of it's
Creator, the brush touches, the blank
White sheet, on its easel stand.
Imaginations muse, is set free,
Released to splash,
The spectrum's color array.
Flesh tones, adds a softness, by a
Shades light stroke.
Ages wisdom, brings a quality of
Realism into the eyes, of this ebony
Lady, looking with a far off gaze.
Toils troubles are for a split second
Forgotten, just a stillness now exists,
In a picture of silence, does she
Recline at ease,
Amongst the tools of her trade.
Within this four sided squared
Framed work of art,
Has the slave achieved freedoms
Liberation at last.
In the hour glasses final hour,
The painter lays down the brush,
Smiling, looking upwards at
The wonder of creation,
Placed before her and marvels,
At the figure in the portrait.
In earthen simplicity, resides
Within the face of this kitchen
Maid, a humbleness, that
Touches the artist’s inner spirit.
Welcome to the world, my newest
Friend of inspiration, proudly,
The mistress of the brush, walks away.
But the ebony lady is in no hurry,
As she sits at rests easy, once
More.
The portrait hangs, on a museum
Wall, for all posterity,
To see the masters handy work.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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