A1.1) The Poet King

The Poet King

I met you in my paint today,
In folds of flesh and time,
I searched through many photographs,
To find an inner sign,
Beneath the veneer of public persona,
I sought to catch your essence,
A flowing light of lingered breath,
That would exude your very presence.
He looked at me,
From a younger man’s photograph,
When his heart was wild and free,
Before the chains of fame held fast,
And his music ruled our sea,
I saw the love within his eyes,
Shining shyly beneath his lashes,
His now stern frown a cover-up,
A pretense for a loving heart,
Overflowing with sun splashes.

It was the poet’s soul,
That indeed did climb himself upon my brush,
Daring me to paint his truthful hue,
And swung his castle gate wide open,
Inviting pigment, that was blue.
Teasing apart intensities of thought,
A musical kingdom he deftly spun,
A partnered dance of note and lyric,
Expressions of heart, sound, and fun.
Of life experience and ponderings,
Within the rhythmic spinning of his mind,
The poet danced safe upon my canvas,
Drenched in pigment opaque and fine.
On whirling paint tip, he did exclaim,
A belief in being kind,
His heart pumped red with joy and passion,
White he found divine,
Gold washed his soul with deep compassion,
While his eyes flashed brown and genuine.
I found the Poet King today, inside a stately man of great bearing,
Wearing wrinkles etched golden upon his skin,
As seams on a well-loved coat -
Each fold a trophy, of a life’s dedication to caring.

- Kathleen Katon Tonnesen, 2018