| Him Part Five I awoke feeling refreshed and Remembering little of the night before. Chanting were the birds; blowing was the wind, And crashing were the waves on the distant shore. Glinting off my chest, the sun was warm, And through the trees it made the autumn leaves gold. Having, I, not chores the day throughout, On the idea of a walk, I was sold. Having dabbled in the painter's world, I decided to take the artisan's tool. With contents under arm, in wood went I Till procession brought me to babbling pool. Here stopped I, to set up my canvas; It seemed destiny when deer stopped there and drank. Quietly pulled I, my pencil to sketch For the cloth was otherwise and hereby blank. On opposite side of pool from deer; There stood I, silent, sketching with gentle ease. And that was when the feeling grabbed my heart: For in the painting, I saw movement in trees. This is altogether true, I swear, For would I fabricate a thing so ghastly? In the painting that I did create, That painted deer, I tell you, stared straight at me. And as I have told you once before That I did see movement in my yellow trees, The movement was not solely in the paint For I, too, was shaking just about the knees. Knees and hands were shaking, but mine eyes-- Mine eyes, however, from canvas never strayed. For the painting seemed to create itself. It grasped me and captured me, and there I stayed. And since I was immensely involved, I could not utter, even detect, a sound. And the deer, intensely, still was staring, Staring even as it knelt down to the ground. It's eyes closed, appeared to concentrate To form the ominous black clouds up above. When it reopened it's eyes, I knew then That the dark look in his eyes was all but love. |