And He
Samson fell asleep
Tired as He was
On Delilah's lap...
His arms fell off
Hanging...
His head rested in peace
He was in Love...
Was not He?
so ...
Upon His love...
Delilah's soft sweet lap...
He slept off...
Happy...
A few minutes before that
Perhaps He had told Her
Where had He so far
Kept His strength...
His hair...
The long uncut one...
The Hair...
And Delilah...
Was not She softened too?
Was not in Her hall
Placed right
Beautiful
At a niche...
There was Venus?
And Her little son...
Cupid?
But those soldiers...
They were also waiting...
They were also waiting...
At the gate...
No one knew them...
Delilah?
She got no wind of them too...
Only in the town of Grasse...
Rubens
At His studio
In oil on wood
Found them revealed...
He found the story true...
And He took pity so much on both
That spending His whole of heart
And double
Of soul...
He carved the wood...
He mixed oil with His tears and blood and color...
And placed it perfect...
On the canvas...
The same Rubens...
Being given
Love of God...
Did that...
He
Did that spending His eyes
Almost to several nights
And days...
The same Rubens...
Who did
Massacre of the Innocents...
He
Did that
Finding them
As
Oil on wood...
[note: On Peter Paul Rubens' (1577-1640) work 'Samson & Delilah'
..an oil on wood work]
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