Wednesday, June 17, 2015

portrait bust of a young woman in an antique style

She had a gentle face,
one of delicate beauty;
she was much loved once
by the one who had the artist
create this memory of her
in glowing clear Carrara.

Was it a father, thanking heaven
for a daughter good and kind,
wishing to set her serene gaze
ever in his study for him to look upon
no matter how far life might take
her from him? 
                         Or a husband,
overjoyed that those lips might
smile upon him, and even
in private moments grant him kisses,
or part in a sigh, deep in the night
in the quiet of their nuptial bed?

Or some other? For someone 
found a worker in marble 
to forever place her hair
in coils like those of ancient Rome, 
and her slender shoulders expose
in a simple dress whose folds
would only begin to suggest
at the slight curving of her breast
before his work was done.

She is long passed now, 
and her name is known only 
on this earth of ours
to that other stone 
above her place of rest.
But she had a gentle face
that promised a nature sweet
and spoke of a soul with grace
and I pray she rests in peace.

Perhaps this was why 
he who loved her
caused an enduring memory
of her to be carved in stone?
That when he was years dead,
others might gaze upon her
and pause to say a prayer;
perhaps his love looked past her beauty
and cared for her soul as well.

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