The Painting in the Coffee Shop
A
poem for Linda (June 2000)
Linda
and I
Shared a quick tea-time
And
noticed the frame on the wall.
The
picture within it
Showed a car flying heavenward
It
didn't seem possible at all.
There, was an old
American classic
Typical of 30's-type makes.
But
it's body was rusted
Doors
fell off long ago
Boot
likely seething with snakes.
I've
seen many like that
Forgotten old relics
Deserted on many a farm;
No
sign of the colour
The
chrome or the vinyl
No
sign of the legendary charm.
I
thought of the Painter
The
scene he depicted
And
wondered what fired his mind;
Why
paint that old classic
So
obviously earth-bound
To
soar high and leave earth behind?
Did
it carry his thoughts
His
dreams and his hopes
Off
to a better Tomorrow?
Did
the darkness behind
Show
the dark night of Now
And
the pain of some sad, past sorrow?
I
voiced my thoughts then
And
told of the Painter
That
he truly deserved my applause;
To
use such a decrepit
Forgotten old Lady
To
fulfil such noble, grand cause!
Linda's expression
Was
sad, disapproving
She'd
studied the painting as well;
We
agreed on the darkness,
But
the amber horizon
She
compared to the "Fire of Hell!"
"A
punishment for
A
fatal transgression"
All
she saw was a guilty old ghost;
That
deserved nothing better
Than
to be on it's way
To
the final end it deserved most!
Such
different perspective
Yet
the very same picture
Had
seemed so endearing to me;
But
the mind has a palette,
Of
emotional colours
Which
tints everything that we see.
Perhaps on a more
Joyous occasion,
Linda
will see what I saw.
Perhaps on that day
The car will be coloured
With
the splendour it boasted before!
© Rochelle
Rober 2000
GO TOP
Some
are the melody, some are the rhythm, some are the harmony