Poems, Personals, and Commentary

The Painting

I walked into a painting,
A seascape rich and grand.
On one side the scudding waves,
On other, emerald lands.

Above the waves, so aptly hung
A rainbow of all-colored hues;
Like fairy bridge it spanned the waves,
And hung ‘neath cloudy view.

I could not tell which land was real —
The painting or my troubled life.
The peaceful setting did give lie
To oft-felt turmoil, strife.

The vibrant air, the soft sea spray,
The colors of the flowers’ hue,
Did stir within my weary heart
A joy and peace anew.

I walked into a painting,
And will I ever know
Which land is real, which fantasy?
Seems only time will show.

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