From Poem to Painting to Poem (La Belle Dame Sans Merci)
Following it’s nightly habit,
my mind is stirring questions
of the oddest sort of mix.
The very image of your favourite
painting of all time (your words)
came to me and asked,
"Why?"
I wondered if you knew it’s
inspiration, and bet myself you did.
After all, isn’t Keats’ lyrical poem more
famous than Sir Frank’s canvassed oil?
Do you see the harmony
between it and us?
I, a would be knight
upward gazing at you,
a lady of beauty with wild eyes
and hair long and fragrant,
pedestaled upon my fairytale stallion.
You leaned over my face,
a single bloom falling
from garlanded hair
and sang your song.
I saw nothing else.
We kissed, then we slept
and I awoke unarmored, to
find you were gone.
I was left on this hillside alone,
enslaved and waiting to hear
just one bird sing.
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