Monday, October 8, 2012

The Cure

supplied the illustration


Mistress Mead! You are unwell!
I'm a Doctor; I can tell.
I even know the troublesome part;
I'm sorry to tell you, it's your heart.
Doctor! Can't you cut it out?
It's beyond fixing, there's no doubt.
Can't you find someone who's died,
And just slip his good heart inside?
Mistress Mead! You are delirious!
Now I know your case is serious!
Such a cure can never be!
It's an impossibility!


Orange sun, gazing at its own reflection.
The bustling dockyard, softened by morning mist.
The muted conversation in the little boat.
The rhythm of the rowlocks.
Clouds, lit from beneath, like a canopy.
The mist rising.
Hold back the garish day!


Yvonne Osborne said...

Lovely little rhyme! With just the right touch of humor mixed with seriousness. I love, "Can't you find someone who's died, and just slip his good heart inside?" Now there's a woman before her time.

And I LOVE your impression of the impression. I can hear the muted conversation if I stare at the painting and hold very still.

Cad said...

Heart surgery needed, eh?!

Helen said...

We've come a long way from the drawings and dreaming of Da Vinci ....

Irish Gumbo said...

Very nice! If the doctor had only known then what we know now...

Other Mary said...

I guess she was ahead of her time! I like the painting and your impression.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

To be a sure an enlightened visionary woman!

Love your impression of the impression!

Anna :o]