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Madame In Sunbeams

Madame was pretty as a painting hanging in sunbeams in the Louvre
Lipstick shadows of martyred sidewalk saints blew poison kisses from her lips
Years in the conservatory taught her art and never need to change her story
Part secret waves of midnight sacred costumes and the colours that she wore
On village pathways in smoky jazz cafes with the ever changing cast that played
That old nouveau music scene where lovers preen and strut dusk to light
She learned to write of broken heart rites and the rituals of Love's oeuvre,
Dancing crazy circles of laughter, holding court with ever after long lost Night
Madame was pretty as a painting hanging in sunbeams in the Louvre.





Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 353 times
Written on 2016-06-12 at 00:46

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Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
I love this, a poem after my own heart :-)

Elle x
2016-06-12