Heather Taylor

 

Portrait of a Woman

Lucas Cranach (the Younger) 1566

 
It took 20 years to make you permanent memory
Like his first wife hung above the mantle
Her cheeks still flushed from childhood
 
As each stroke of oil on canvas brought out wrinkles,
The shadows on your face, furred collar, pious shirt,
Only your smile betrays you’re finally his.



Architect & his Muse

(Anton Rafael Mengs, 1779)


Square lines, thermos, compass point
Circles drawn with hands guided
Your eyes drawn to space staring

There your muse tickles your wrist
Your neck back, curved spine
Leans a girls whisper in your ear
 
Never wanton, she delicately hovers
A mysterious perfume you inhale
To turn pencil marks into dreamed cathedrals.




 


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