Montrésor

I caught him,
Lost in deep trance, held
Inside the glassy painting depths
Montrésor, in ink.

Caught and pressed inside the glass,
Surrounds, a simple frame
Made by him,
To show her skill.

He sees,
Between the cobbled streets,
And pink carnations in their beds,
His hand in hers, the smiles unforced.

"Come" she says
" No weary feet, the hills await, the sun is kind,"
He smiles, from some forgotten place,.
Where once she dreamed of him.

The painting keeps forever sweet,
Time compressed, thoughts complete,
Not fractured, broken or deplete
Upon his lips, her name





Poetry by 1LFD
Read 48 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2022-08-06 at 11:02

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Congratulations! Your poem has been chosen to be featured on our home page by a fellow member of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!
2022-08-15


Sameen
Beautiful, magnificent, just sweet. I love this. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
2022-08-07


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
This, Lady LFD, is a masterpiece and much deserves accolade.
Love it!
Allen
2022-08-06


D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
What a delightful poem. I liked its ambiguity (to me at least), that are we looking at a painting? Or the lovers painting? The last stanza is for me perfect.
2022-08-06