The painting six feet long
And almost five feet wide
A little figure three feet four in front.
Her young voice high with clear delight
Everyone stopped and turned to look at her
Telling stories from within the frame
A monkey-face, an elephant, a bird.
Some people smiled at me and turned away
Dismissing childish eyes for what they saw
Others reading programmes with respect
Frowned, their peaceful contemplation gone.
In front of everyone she challenged art
- Impressionism taken to extremes
She alone ignored the lack of form
And therefore taught me what ’Untitled’ means.
We laughed together loudly, I held her hand
In case she tried to jump and disappear
Behind the yellow smudge to chase the cubs
And the roaring we were sure that we could hear.
If you were mine and we had never known
Another’s touch, save that which touched us then
And I no longer fantasized
And closed my eyes each night just to pretend.
If you belonged to me and not to her
If I woke up beside you face to face
If every morning I could stop the thoughts
And change that one decision made in haste.
If lifetimes ago we’d seized our chance
To say goodbye to all the ties that hold
Then we’d have been together all this time
And I’d have borne you little girls of gold.
© Trish Leake 2006 