Sunday, January 7, 2018

Aphrodite by William-Adolphe Bouguereau

Now that the day have I sung almost
Singing and sailing to reach thy coast
How by  thy grace doth do I see
The image of thy calming divinity,

Art thou then Aphrodite for me
As preserved in art for eternity
Thy face, resplendent bright
Thy hair tied in bun, alright,
As William-Adolphe Bouguereau
A french man did thou see
And made thou his Aphrodite?

Know I not how times get passed
I lay awake thinking thee just
As if all the ages I have been thinking of thee
O You the restive benign face of Aphrodite,

In thee I find how oceans rise
In thee I find how they bear low tide
In thee I discover newer hopes and dreams
Thou art never ending as it seems,

Thy image is what perhaps I always bore
In my heart as to thee I swam ashore,
Crossing perhaps time and space
Through poems and writings how thee I trace,

Thou hath given me the birth of mirth
Thou hath shown me how Love do surge
In my mind, my words, my rhythmic line
How in thou I find Love  true and divine,

And that love how gives more to write
Aphrodite if thou bring such awesome sight

What joy, what love, what immortal bless
Prompted  Bouguereau to paint thy kindness?

I just keep on looking at thee,
And get filled with only poetry.

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