In her eyes
In her hair falling
about the bare shoulders
In his hands on the keys
In the scotch on the rocks
In their arms long and elegant
releasing doves to the sky
In the fat man's face
where joy builds
into a sweat
Don Juan on his horseback
In the copper skied dusk
In each artist's mind
As each image is born
Love this.
ReplyDeleteI am particularly fond of the idea that poetry hides in the most unlikely places; the seemingly irrelevant things that occur daily.
You've nailed it. We just have to look around us, grab the image as it flies past.
ReplyDeleteWonderful hiding places! Nice one!
ReplyDeleteWhat a nice hiding place :)
ReplyDeleteI could so imagine it :)
The first para caught me. The rest was a treat!
ReplyDeleteI wish I could paint well. I can't hide there. I can hide in collage and mixed media. Your words do seem as if I could hide within them, though.
ReplyDeleteOne of my faves of the day. Just scrumptious. :) X
ReplyDeleteFeeling the extraordinary in the ordinary, thank you for these images. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteGood poem.
ReplyDeletesimple and irresistible...
ReplyDelete"In each artist's mind"..Perfect!
ReplyDeleteAnd thats how a brilliant poem is born !
ReplyDeleteWow. Thank you all for the encouragement.
ReplyDeleteI like how... when I finished this poem, my eyes raced back to the top so that I could read it again! :)
ReplyDelete~Tui
a.k.a. @mentalmosaic on Twitter visiting from #OctPoWriMo
So romantic. "...copper skied dusk..." what a great line. So much vivid imagery in just a few lines.
ReplyDeleteI'm right with Tui. I read once and then read again and once again. What a visual treat of images -- all leading back to what is beautiful and hidden.
ReplyDeleteSplendid! I loved your take on the prompt :D
ReplyDelete