The Model Speaks Once upon a daytime dreary, the artist pondered me, the weary, now that she knew my name wasn't Raven, of that long forgotten lore. While my neck glistened with a blue she picked up on this subtle hue, and with her oil brush she drew, painting like it was no chore. "It grackles fine art," I muttered, while perching on my driftwood floor, "it's only me, nothing more, The Lone Stranger, just me, nothing more, nevermore."
With a nod to Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more."
The Model Speaks
ReplyDeleteOnce upon a daytime dreary,
the artist pondered me, the weary,
now that she knew my name wasn't
Raven, of that long forgotten lore.
While my neck glistened with a blue
she picked up on this subtle hue,
and with her oil brush she drew,
painting like it was no chore.
"It grackles fine art," I muttered,
while perching on my driftwood floor,
"it's only me, nothing more,
The Lone Stranger, just me,
nothing more, nevermore."
With a nod to Edgar Allen Poe's
The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."
absolutely perfect composition and use of color. as always, outstanding work!
ReplyDelete