For a challenge on another site we were to use the phrase 'sketch of me' and I chose to use E.W. Richardson's Soliloquy form. Again I do hope I have done it justice....

Pencil's Dust

I could dip my pen in portrait's ink
To scribble myself upon a page,
Add the lines of time and age,
Crisp and clear...certainly not flawed.

Perhaps watercolors I could brush
In dampened hue, a splash or two
Of pastel truth in green and blue.
This could be me but ... not quite.

Maybe in oils I could somehow reflect
My inner spirit, paint a soul that lives
Each moment, a heart that gives
Her all but then ... maybe not.

In charcoal I could trace with dust
Of muted thoughts, blending the light
That is always claiming its right
To be ... might this be truly me?

No, I cannot be drawn in pen and ink.
It leaves no margin for features flawed.
Nor can the strokes of paint on brush
Mirror the imperfect me for 'not quite
Right' is the only way to reflect
My sun and shadow ... and so it should not
Surprise that just eraser and pencil's dust
Can capture that changing sketch of me.



© October 2007