Speechless naked feet

Speechless naked feet

Brush the boards

Where carpets are bare to tread

In threadbare pile

Of warm worn through

Early spring sun

Long legs languid and fair

With hairs that stand up

Feeling the fresh air rush of the tingling chill

Coming up through floorboard cracks

And the regular slap of skin against wood

As she walks in just an old man’s shirt

Running the fingers of one hand through her hair

Glasses balanced as she studies the painting

Through auburn streaks

That hang down

A wavered curtain flare

Whilst below the sounds of the city

The sounds of others not yet quite awake

Begin to vibrate across the rising river of sound


The juddering honking moving thrum of cars

Shouts and sirens

But all she hears are the notes and the rhythms

The melodies and words

That sink and rise

That float every day through her head

As once again she picks up the brush

And strokes the canvas

In a world that is hers

And hers alone

◄ Battle for the beach

Smoky joints and hard bitten smiles ►


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Martin Elder

Mon 29th Jul 2019 22:17

Thanks to Leon for liking. thanks also to Keith and Devon for your comments.
Its a poem for me that is about a young woman lost in her own world. A world of painting and music. I personally could not draw or paint if life depended on it but I have a real appreciation of that form of expression as well as music and the written word. I partly had thoughts of Joni Mitchell in mind who is both a prolific painter as well as singer songwriter. a truly gifted lady.
Thanks again Guys


Devon Brock

Mon 29th Jul 2019 10:43

Martin, I like this poem mucho. So carefully crafted, this pulled me into the scene with its movement, silence amid noise, contemplation, etc. There is a magnificent building of tension throughout and the resolution is outstanding.


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keith jeffries

Mon 29th Jul 2019 10:40

A rich portrayal of the senses. This poem took me there. I felt I was in an apartment above a city with a river beneath my window. The languid stirrings of an artist. Very well written. Thank you for this. Keith

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