NATURE by Jeanette Jones based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915)
NATURE
My feet, my feet chilled to the bone,
as I sit, sitting here alone.
Sharpening itself, the wind embraced;
slicing a piece of me, starting at my face.
Think not of cold, only hot, I say.
Now, I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see;
the coldness of the wind’s gotten the best of me.
The ambiances of skies at my back
cautions me for more is to come
as Winter will turn to Spring.
My feet, my feet aching to the bone
as I sit, sitting here alone.
Sharpening itself, the storm embraced;
Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face.
Think not of wet, only dry.
Now I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see;
the influence of the storm’s gotten the best of me;
A new season calls once again, Winter to Spring,
then Summer to Fall; everlasting love,
my face bares it all.
NATURE based on the Portrait No. 2 of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) by Kathrine Nash Rhoades (1915) – (Edited by Debbi Guzzi
My feet, my feet chilled to the bone,
as I sit, sitting here alone.
Sharpening itself, the wind embraced,
Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face,
Think not of cold, only hot, I say.
Now, I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see,
the coldness of the wind’s gotten the best of me.
The frameless skies at my back,
embraces me for more of to come
as Winter will turn to Spring.
My feet, my feet aching to the bone
as I sit, sitting here alone.
THIS ENDING WAS INADVERTENTLY OMITTED WHEN SUBMITTED (NOT EDITED)
Sharpening itself, the storm embraced,
Slicing a piece of me, starting at my face,
Think not of wet, only dry.
Now I can’t move, can’t move, can’t you see,
The influence of the storm’s gotten the best of me;
A new season calls once again, Winter to Spring, then Summer to Fall, everlasting love on my face bares it all.
This poem was inspired by the Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Poets, Ten Days
challengeby Debbie Guzzi.
Painting #2
Portrait of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson)-Katharine Nash Rhoades 1915
Perfectly Still
Perfectly still, my mind races ahead leaping flowerbeds of perfect roses.
Apple trees with the sweetest apples await. I pluck them from their branches.
Birthday balloons tied to the porch swing, restrained wave to me
hurry set us free—to fly—to climb the sky
Perfectly still, my mind races ahead of me
leaping.
Lapis lazuli mines with wide blue eyes
bringing to mind precious stones and
caramel scones; innocent and wise -
Wondering, yet without surprise.
Staring down the universe, a challenge
in your look though you are young;
The earth made only nine revolutions
since you came out to see the sun.
Unguarded and arched, your brows
betray high wire tension; enough
to light up a hundred moons and warm
plump cheeks to cherry bubble gum.
Be not impatient to grow; you smell
of open grasshopper meadows
and firefly lighted lakeshore walks.
You’re a mother’s envy and pride.
Red lips! Your passion for life exists.
Scarlet, lipstick would be a surfeit -
Today as then till many summer’s been,
your spirit will always be free as the mist.
After: Portrait of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)
For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting No. 2
Kim Patrice Nunez
08 January 2016
Poem of the Week: January 10-16, 2016
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