WHO WAS SHE
WHO WAS SHE
I intuited the radiance before
I even laid eyes on her
Moving with a self-assured poise
that came from deep within
was a quintessence of a woman
of ageless assurance and beauty
What WAS it?
That layered her with a divinity,
incomparable sensuality redefined
Captivated by her timeless elegance
reading her essence as an omen
From her brushed golden hair
reflected specks strewed my path
Tossing my brushes and canvas aside
On this one great all-consuming quest
I pursued her like an artist possessed
An apparition the likes of which
I only but dreamed
the Universe I had implored
‘Help me to find … and achieve’
My Masterpiece had manifested
Who WAS she?
I followed her
down winding cobbled streets
through quaint little parks
unhindered … free of the bustle
and chaos of city life
Several times, she lingered
Breathing the intoxicating
fragrance of rambling roses
Elegant fingers caressed
purple lavenders that abundantly grew.
From her rosebud lips
on wings of fluffy dandelions
her playful wishes flew
Fairy floss clouds
drifted ~ melting into endless blue skies
An old Oak offered respite as she reclined
enjoying the sweet scent of serenity
‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ they say
I looked through hers and marvelled
at what Nature had to offer
The Quintessential Component of Time
stood Still for us
So entranced in that magical moment was I
when a discordant cry - of a raven broke the spell
Startled she turned
Our eyes met ~ mortal sparks igniting
‘Be still my beating heart’ ~ I implored
but it mockingly laughed
Hovering playfully on sensual lips
a smile danced as she beckoned
On feet that grew wings
I involuntarily flew
Who WAS she?
In a sweet, tinkling, teasing voice, she said
“I’m quite aware that you have been following me”.
Stunned - I just stared – rendered speechless by
her porcelain skin
her sun-kissed hair,
her sparkling jewelled eyes
her rosebud lips
I lived ‘the moment’ where
words were futile
“No matter, sweet artist”
“you want to paint my portrait - Don’t they all?”
Rummaging through her handbag,
she pulled out a business card and handed it to me
“Come see me,” she said as she gently floated away.
I looked at the card.
Lariese
Like music to my ears
Lariese
A vision without flaws
Elicits the question
’Did it make her the woman she was?’
Surfacing aesthetically the radiant beauty
of her natural glowing skin
must also come from deep within
By Maria Williams ©
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2024
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