Snowstorm by Maurice de Vlaminck
The painting was mysterious,
Always making him curious,
Especially when he was alone at night,
He’d see a figure walking, illuminated bright.
Through the lane,
a lady would come,
With a sign of her fingers,
into the painting, she’d welcome.
You’re mad; you’re insane,
You’re just seeing things,
His friends never believed,
thinking he was hallucinating.
It pained him, to be ridiculed,
When his story was truth absolute,
Upset, he locked himself in his room,
For days and weeks, as thou’ in a cocoon.
One day, a gentle ‘tap’ distracted him,
He turned around and saw a lady, peeking at him,
She was the lady from the painting, her hand stretched out at him,
Come, she said, her voice was soft and soothing.
Hypnotized, he held hers and did as she said,
Un-believingly into the painting, he then walked inside,
Years passed, and a next owner bought the painting,
To his amazement, would often see two figures walking!
This post is for Magpie Tales 247
Copyright 2014 © Nandini Deka