Still Life

February changes everything,
the old routine makes way,
the sounds of Thursdays no more sing
the end of our busiest day.
Our Tuesday afternoons repaid,
though I still don't have the time.
I have always hated Tuesdays
and been often justified.
I watch a glassy night sky,
crissed and crossed with streams,
growing white and fading light,
it's like a string-art piece
worked through nails on a board.

I think of Rita Rembrandt
and how she was so calm and quiet,
I remember her quoting Ingres,
"draw lines, young man, draw lines"
to Delacroix, a man after our own hearts.
She worked in ramshackle rooms,
few of the buildings were not falling apart
(Sr. Martin's foot had once gone through
the ceiling of the class below).

Spring is up and I'm still in bed,
my thoughts are back in 1994,
I can see my life-drawing sketch,
double-checking the head-to-body ratios,
though it is too late to change anything.

(Explanation: I was lying on my bed one evening and saw a number of plane streams in the sky, it was absolutely beautiful.
My Leaving Cert. art teacher was Rita O'Connell. Obviously, we called her Miss O'Connell to her face, but we called her Rita Rembrandt behind her back, not a bad nickname at all if you knew what we called other teachers. What a lady! I don't know how she put up with us.
I have been waiting for 2018 to properly start at our house, we did two rounds with the 'flu, one person at a time out of me and my two daughters. My husband got away with it, not one sniffle. So, good riddance January and please let us be back to normal from today.)

Just A Game

It all begins with a connection,
and cannot be completed without same,
it may be that you do it in small sections
or you may see only the endgame.
You may suffer the severest of frustrations
when someone else sees how it all should fit,
indeed, you might reach a point of desperation
as others finish while you're stuck on the same bit.
Sometimes you'll be sure you know the answer
until you make your move to bind the parts,
and then the join requires a strike by hammer,
but you know you cannot force a work of art.
The last piece of the puzzle can seem obvious
until you place it and you need a different aim,
the picture you want cannot exist without the edges
and you can break it if you want a change.
You can consider every option, every angle,
you can look and look until it's ineffective,
but, mostly, the best view is not a gamble,
a simple standing-back brings new perspective.
It's just a game of interlocking plots,
a pile of jumble seeking to be shaped,
it's mixed up and quite safe within its box,
but working on it will enhance your days.