Nor the years age or alter
For the sweetness of her face
Shall remain
And the grace with which she stands
Be etched in marble forever
For her loveliness has been captured
In a moment in time
She was once mortal
But she lives no more...
But I wonder, does she have a heart of stone?
Or does it still beat with love and passion
Within her marble facade
Does she long to be freed
From this pedestal on which she stands?
And one day should her true love arrive
Can she break free from her prison of stone
And walk hand in hand by his side...
Prose - Dianne Dawes - ♥
For dear C.B.
Image - Veiled Female Nude - Emilio Fiaschi - 1858 -1941 - Please Enlarge
12 comments:
It is you. I know. And the answer is... of course. In another time, what would have been? Nestled in your bosom, I would have shaken my head and fallen to your legs with tears streaming. Life has been cruel to both of us but there are dreams. We hold on to dreams. I have never not held onto my dreams otherwise I would have ceased long ago. Had you been with me at the top of the Uffington White Horse when I was recently there, I would have held your hand and walked with you together to his eye. And you would have placed your yellow flowers into the circle of that eye and smiled to me. And we, by our footsteps, would have traced the path of many lovers before. Gazing into each other's eyes and into the distance, the gentle wind lifting and fading and wondering what love was all about knowing all the time, what it was all about. Now, a song from a friend I knew, long ago, from a small pub in Basingstoke, Hampshire. Not that she's there anymore. It's about love:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSpqzTgEv3A
Toutes mes amitiés,
C.B.
And one of her new songs:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-I3DomQnx5A
Would you believe I have just lost my reply to you and sadly I cannot retrieve it?
If only it was me. She is beautiful and perfect and will always remain so. Whereas I am mortal and time has altered me and taken away the beauty of my youth. Sadly most people cannot see the beauty inside. I could not think of anything more beautiful than to have you love me but it seems we have always been too late...perhaps in another lifetime, perhaps in another time and place. It could have been so lovely. I can imagine holding your hand walking around the Uffington White Horse in the footsteps of many lovers before us who had their timing right but perhaps did not feel the love that I am capable of feeling. I can feel the gentle warmth of a Spring day, the fragrance of the grasses is all around us and the scent of the yellow flowers I have just placed in the circle of the eye. We look at each other and smile, I gently squeeze your hand to let you know that I am so happy to be here with you, we don't need words just feelings. You mentioned the gentle wind lifting and fading, you always have such beautiful thoughts.
I wish we had met when I was a bright-eyed beautiful young woman, filled with hopes and dreams...but because of my naivety and inexperience I chose the wrong person, one who would squash many of my hopes, take away my dreams. But he did not destroy me.
It would have been wonderful for you and I to spend our days together, I can imagine the happiness we could have felt and of not being parted at the end of the day and not having to say goodbye and go our separate ways, to stay together...but these are all dreams. Wrong timing again. I was deep in thought recently and thought how lovely it would be to feel thr glow of real happiness, the kind that lasts...of course I do have some happiness in my life but not enough.
Thank you for your beautiful words, you have lifted my spirits. I am always happy when you visit, I look for you often hoping you will be there. I miss you, your words and your beautiful photographs. Thank you also for the beautiful songs, Tanita has a way with words, they have depth. I have always loved "The Cathedral Song", it reminds me of you. Thank you again dear one, I will miss you until next time. Take care, I will always be your loving friend.
Much love, Dianne xoxo
I am not unfeeling dear one, in the reply that I lost I also said that I would have fallen to my knees too and held you closely, our hearts as one, kissed away your tears, kissed you tenderly...such a beautiful thought. X
I was thinking of you. You're a good person with a good heart. Take care, C.B.
I was thinking of you too. Well, I am always thinking of you and wondering how you are. Thank you for your kind words. I think the same of you dear one, I am thankful for your kindness, your friendship...and for enriching my life in so many ways. I'm sorry I didn't have a poem for you. I looked at the Uffington White Horse on the Net, it is amazing and beautiful. I was thinking of your words and wanted to see its eye. This week I also saw the painting "Hope" by Watts and remembered you had written a sad poem about the girl in the painting. I have many memories of you.
Take care dear one, much love,
Dianne xoxoxo. ♥️
I often think of something to share with you but I do not know if you are there. I know about 'double emotions', where one's heart is telling me anything is possible. Then my good sense steps in and brings me back to reality, conflicting sometimes but some things are not possible...but dreams allow me to go on.
D.D. xoxoxo
Hello Dianne!
May you find the renewal of hope, health, love and the spirit of God. Happy Easter to you and your lovely family.
Spring greetings from Poland.
Lucja
I wanted to think seriously about things this afternoon. Sitting in my study, the sunlight is beaming on the wooden floor. The window is ajar. I can hear birds. The mesh of white window muslin is still. There is no wind. Wouldn't it be just good, just the two of us, to sit by the window? Heads lowered. Contemplative. Without any need to say some thing, which in all likelihood, would be insufficient for the moment. My body is moving, but not physically, if that is possible. My mind is moving. I am sure, quite sure, that the statue of the nude does no little injustice to your true beauty. The neck and the breasts. The unbearable sensitivity of touch. But why touch? Why possess? Stay free, in all one's beauty. A bath is a very personal thing. White candles are so gentle. When you are bathed in warmth, my heart is not so far behind yours. Beating very gently. I yearn. I so yearn. To what purpose though? Perhaps, true meaningful beauty is a complete union of the physical, the senses, the emotions, the intentions. A giving of oneself to the other. An aiding of the other to another level. Nature does this naturally and so subtly. I have no doubt that touch, if that is the right word, probably not, 'sense' in Polish is more closer to the meaning I intend, 'sense' of the other person is everything. She, submissive and yielding and affirming. It is all so much more than anything physical or visible. A presence. Perhaps, that is what it is. A unified presence. The net result being far more than the simple additive combination of two beings. Maybe. Just maybe, one day, the sound of a chain-link tinkling to the floor will alert you to your freedom and the press of firm hands on your delicate, shapely posterior will initiate a cradling of your arms around a certain man's neck and hair. The unity will be complete and forever and fully fulfilling. Will it be in this life? You have Kieslowski to ask such. Farewell. Thinking much of you, C.B.
How lovely to be with you in that sun-filled room, to be so close to you...but I think the physicality of your presence would be too much for me and would let down my guard. For I have never allowed myself to think that we could ever be together, that you could ever love me, perhaps in the past when I was young and fresh but not now, probably not in this life. I do not need to possess you to love you.The only chains that keep me bound are those I have created for myself. For as lovely as it would be to touch you, hold you closely, to love you completely in a physical sense, I would not make you happy, sadly we have always been too late. I wish I was as young as the girl made of stone, once I may have rivalled her beauty but not now. I am warm, I am flesh and I do possess a certain beauty but I have lost the beauty of youthfulness and the confidence.
I feel a sense of you, your presence, I have for such a long time, I don't need to touch you physically, I feel that you are all around me, spiritual, a warmth that surrounds me when I read your words, when I think of you.
Please don't think of me as cold and unfeeling, for I am not and if your heart is bathed in warmth then that makes me happy for you.
Take care dear one, much love, Dianne.
xoxoxo
Post Script : How fortunate I am to have your messages, your friendship. Your words are those of kindness, beauty, thoughtfulness of feeling of such eloquence. I have never known another person with your depth of feelings, sensitivity, imagination and intellect. Your connection to and awareness of all the subtle beauty in the world.
I did think how lovely it would be to have you hold my hand and walk around the White Horse at Uffington. I also thought how lovely it would have been to be in your presence in your sun-filled study, the birds singing outside the window, the white muslin curtain...to sit there in silence with you, in contemplation. These are pleasures I cannot have, cannot experience.
Yes, a bath is a very personal thing, intimate in the gentle glow of white candles. I wondered why you suggested two long glasses. Was Mozart to share the wine with me? In some fantasy I thought it might have been you. Would that have been wrong?
I have placed a delicate white daisy in the little jar I keep on my window sill especially for you. My little beacon of hope that you will return again.
Thinking of you, D,D. xoxox
Dear C.B. , my words were never meant to hurt you.I was being realistic for your sake. I am missing you now. I hope your "Farewell" was not "Goodbye"!
Je t'en prie, reviens vite!
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