|The Snake Charmer, Henri Rousseau, 1907|
For you I learned to breath, circular,
the double reeded melody
never pausing. My flute-like gourd
always moving as baubles and trinkets
dangled to attract.
I desired you to respond,
to match my swaying. Tried
enticing you with vibrations;
captivated, you were not.
In defense, you bit me once
as alone I wouldn't leave you.
Why did I come back for more?
You preferred others like yourself,
struggled always from my grasp.
The moon's hypnotizing light
upon the mirrored surface glowed,
reflected back a face unfamiliar
as I picked up my basket
full of yearning and despair.
Around my ankles
cold and loneliness swirled
and I paused...
but my name you did not call; so
into the basket I stepped,
greif imprisoned within
and tightly the lid I secured.
Liquid darkness swallowed my
parting melody of paradise lost,
its swampy arms offered
a false comfort I embraced
as my fruitless desire
was finally consumed.
by Margaret Bednar, Art Happens 365, September 20, 2011
* * * * *
I TRIED to find happy from the above image, but it just gives me the CREEPS! So, dark and despondency flowed... This is for Magpie Tales #83.