Lady of Cythera

TITIAN_-_Venus_Anadyomene_(National_Galleries_of_Scotland,_c._1520._Oil_on_canvas,_75.8_x_57.6_cm)

Rising on the whitecaps
foam born

she shone like a pearl in the dawn

and the waves washed through her
and washed over her
and washed over her
until she was full of the sea and the sun
and all things that gleam
and the doves polished her and the myrtle scented her
and she was beauty
*artwork “Venus Anadyomene” by Titian*

 

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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