Monnahangover, quadro di GRETE MEEK, Norvegia. Mona Lisa, poesia di AERONWY THOMAS, UK

Monnahangover_inset 
(copyright of the artist)

LINK: http://www.artbreak.com/Grete

MONA LISA

 

Passion

Smoulders!

Mona smiles

Reason falters

Mona Lisa suggests:

“Fall entranced

Under my gaze”

Blood pounds

My ears hammer

Is she up for it?

Mona flirts

Suggestive smile

I find my hands

On her thighs

Red alert!

Her smile fades

Mouth turns sour

Cold cheeks

Arms rigid

Thighs sealed

Think ice,

Siberian wastes.

She doesn’t

Want to know…

 

                                            AERONWY  THOMAS

WASTE LAND, quadro di JAIME BRAZ, Portogallo. Poesia di AERONWY THOMAS, UK

Waste-land 
(copyright dell'artista)

LINK: http://www.artbreak.com/JaimeB

 

 

WHAT DID YOU (DO ) THERE?

 

 

                                               There’s something there,

                                               where, care

                                               to look behind the sofa,

                                               along the curtain rail,

                                               under the Queen’s chair.

 

                                               Care to feel your way

                                               into the cupboard

                                               it’s dark in there.

                                               Since he’s come to stay

                                               I keep clear.

                                              

                                               But you’ve got claws

                                               and pointed teeth

                                               he wouldn’t dare

                                               to pick a fight

                                               with you.

           

                                               And as a mere

                                               surmise

                                               a surprising thought

                                               I ask

                                               Might you be the “he”

                                               who’s come to stay?

 

AERONWY  THOMAS

                                              

                                              

 

                                              

BlueBells, painting by LISA DEAN, Malaysia. View from my garden bench in spring, poem by CAROLE JACOBS, Wales, GB

BlueBells_inset 
(copyright dell'artista)

LINK: http://www.artbreak.com/lisadean

VIEW FROM MY GARDEN BENCH IN SPRING

 

There are my rhododendrons,

Scarlet, tangerine

And umbered cream,

Flamboyant under

The bleak ash tree.

 

Loose-tongued blooms,

The envy of more sober shrubs

They flaunt themselves

Like frilly flirts,

Disturb old earth.

 

CAROLE CHRISTINA JACOBS

Rhydlewis – Wales- GB

 

VEDUTA DALLA PANCHINA DEL MIO GIARDINO IN PRIMAVERA

 

Ci sono i miei rododendri,

Scarlatti, color mandarino

E di un intenso color crema,

Sgargianti sotto

Il frassino spoglio.

 

Fiori ciarlieri,

Invidia di arbusti più sobri,

Si pavoneggiano

come donne civettuole

E disturbano la vecchia terra.

 

TRANSLATION: Lidia Chiarelli

I AM WHAT I AM, quadro di FLORENCE MCLEAN, Danimarca. DYLAN'S DAUGHTER, poesia di AERONWY THOMAS, UK

I am what i am 
(copyright of the artist)

LINK: www.florencemclean.dk

DYLAN’S DAUGHTER

 

They want me at the party

I don’t know them

they don’t know me

because I’m Dylan’s daughter.

 

Why can’t my husband go

alone

they’re his friends

his party

but no

they want me there too.

 

Can’t you ring

I’m indisposed, awful cold

a bug

a severe allergy

to their kind invite.

 

No hope

no good prevaricating

got to bathe

prink and pother

choose an outfit

and worse

be ready on time.

 

“By six, did you say ?”

“The earlier we get there

the earlier we can leave”

he lies

knowing the return trek

will be cold,

late

lengthy.

 

While I’m celebrating with

Prosecco and delicious food

he’ll be singing his heart out

with Welsh friends

last to go

befuddled and sung out

with me in tow.

 

Ah, well

better get ready

pronto

because I’m Dylan’s daughter.

 

AERONWY  THOMAS