From Boris Hoppek's Tokyo exhibit "Ever"
artiste
no one cares
why the sun rises
above your
consort bed.
all that matters
is you -
the artist's muse,
fringed in comfort,
listening for a
lover's footsteps
fading distant early
morn;
you -
posed languid
for this never-ending
sculpted ruse
of night.
Poem ©2012 R. Burnett Baker
Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid.
Oh I love that you saw this as the muse! Brilliant!
ReplyDeletedelicious...why my muse does not look like that i do not know...smiles.
ReplyDeleteMost interesting take on the prompt...
ReplyDeletefine words of thought
ReplyDeleteI am with Tess.....brilliant! :-)
ReplyDelete