In Praise of Her Beauty

An ekphrasis inspired by John Singer Sargent’s “Portrait of Madame X.”

“Portrait of Madame X” by John Singer Sargent

In Praise of Her Beauty
By PoeticMeditations

Lush, auburn tresses cascading upon
Alabaster shoulders soft as a fawn
Eyes of bright, sparkling emerald gems
Elegant and lithe her smooth, supple limbs
Soft, pliant lips – sweet nectar to imbibe
Breasts twin orbs of paradisial delight
Rare, breathless beauty that commands the sight
Vision of loveliness – image sublime
Fashioned by heaven – perfection divine.

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Starbucks Dude

STARVING POET: At the suggestion of my buddy, PoeticMeditations (WordPress) aka Poetinagarret (Twitter), I wrote this Starbucks version of my previous poem that I posted on his blog and Twitter account, “DQ Dude”; he being more of a café kind of dude, and I, more like a Dairy Queen sort of fellow. In spite of our differences, he and I are still good buddies. We have a lot in common: we both love/write poetry and both are dirt poor. I also sent this off to Starbucks HQ hopin’ to get some free coupons.

By StarvingPoet

I’m a Starbucks Dude in a DQ world
Live my preference like a banner unfurled
Love that the recessed, subdued, soft kind of light
Not that harsh lighting: fluorescent and bright
Hate the hard, plastic seats and white table tops
Starbucks’ plush decor pulls out all the stops
Tall, coconut milk, cascara latte!
Not just reg or decaf — the DQ way
Can snack all day on their cremenilli
A BeltBuster is the last thing I need
A barista not a short-order cook
Café life for me, not some boring book
In a DQ world, I’m a Starbucks Dude
The common life?  I’m just not in the mood.

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DQ Dude

STARVING POET: Thanks to my good buddy, PoeticMed, for letting me guest blog and use his Twitter feed, so I could post my latest creation. I did send it off to the Dairy Queen head office hoping to snag a few BeltBuster coupons or at least a couple of Blizzard coupons, but nooo – all I got was what looked like a standard reply telling me how they appreciate me taking the time to write, and that they would pass on my praise to the appropriate personnel. For my transatlantic fans (if I have any), DQ is short for Dairy Queen, a fast-food restaurant that pre-dates MacDonalds.

By StarvingPoet

I’m a DQ Dude in a Starbucks world
Live my preference like a banner unfurled
I like my lighting fluorescent and bright
None of the recessed, subdued kind of light
Like the hard, plastic seats and white table tops
Not plush, upholstered chairs designed for fops
Tall, coconut milk, cascara latte?
Reg or decaf is the DQ way!
I’ll pass on the snack tray cremenilli
A juicy BeltBuster is all I need
No barista just a short-order cook
Simple life for me, but not by some book
In a Starbucks world, I’m a DQ Dude
Fancy coffee? I’m just not in the mood.




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By PoeticMeditations

Late at night, the forlorn wail of a distant train
Calls me back when as a youth on warm summer nights
Abed with the darkness outside the window pane
Dreaming of faraway places with their delights

That lay beyond the four borders of this small town
Of loves that yet await me in the far-off years
Not knowing where my fated destiny was bound
Or if my lot would be fortune or grief and tears

Now I find myself here with all these years flown past
Abed with the darkness outside the window pane
Knowing love, hope, and happiness can never last
Late at night, the forlorn wail of a distant train.


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Lady of the Camellias

White Camellia

By PoeticMeditations

Camellia — white blossom of a heart true and pure
Beauty, charm, and coyness all part of her allure
A courtesan who was the toast of all Paris *
Whoever kept her filled rivals with great envy

Gentlemen vied with all their vanity and wealth
Used her selfishly with no regard for her health
Concern for Armand’s sister’s wedded happiness
Forced her to forget her marital dream of bliss

All-consuming passion, a virtue or a vice?
True love oft times requires selfless sacrifice.

(*French pronunciation)

(Recently read Camille by Alexander Duma, watched the DVD starring Greta Garbo, then wrote this poem.)



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Autumn Etude #2

“A calm rainy morning in late autumn at Browne Lake Provincial Park” (

By PoeticMeditations

Each drop a tear upon the leaves
As rain falls down from dismal skies
All gathered in the harvest sheaves
Heard the nightingale’s distant cries

The bee now lies in idle rest
To warmer climes the thrush has flown
The mouse all cozy in its nest
Forlornly sits the owl alone

Grows deep the darkness of the night
Upon the ground the cold frost creeps
Cast long, black shadows by firelight
As fall prepares for winter’s sleep.

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An Elegy for Summer








By PoeticMeditations

Weeps the wind for Summer’s passing
Trees bow down in silent mourning
Brief the seasons – never lasting
Hoots at night the owl forlornly

Clad the days in dull, gray attire
Across the Sun dark clouds are drawn
Against the chill is lit the fire
Cast down the moonlight pale and wan

Cold stars bear witness high above
To the barren earth far below
Remembrance of bright, sunlit love
As Winter drapes her shroud of snow.


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Autumn Sonata

Autumn Sonata

By PoeticMeditations

The hearth’s embers now faintly glow
A single candle breaks the gloom
Outside, the wind raps on the pane
While bare-branched trees forlornly pose.

Summer’s glory has flown away
Mere memories of brighter days
List! The nightingale’s plaintive cry
Hastens Winter without delay.

Rain clouds begin to gently weep
Echo the tears that trickle down
Remembrance of loves lost and won
As shadows black grow long and deep.

The wind the trees begins to lash
The candle sputters then goes out
By the hour, the room grows chill
Cold now the hearth where lies gray ash.

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Winter’s Beauty Pale


By PoeticMeditations

Fades now rouged Autumn’s painted face
Replaced by Winter’s beauty pale
With elegance of limbs laid bare
She lightly treads the earth with grace.

Stillness unbroken by the birds
Days arrayed in somber shadows
Gray clouds obscure the far-off sun
Deep silence undisturbed by words.

Bright stars glint in the frozen sky
On the air wafts the cedar’s scent
With fragile flakes cascading down
Soft! Gowned in white she passes by.

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By PoeticMeditations

Soon the trees will lay down to rest
Each yellowed leaf will gently fall
Empty now the gray fledgling’s nest
No longer heard the thrush’s call.

Soon the branches will all be bare
The bee and monarch both have fled
A  hint of winter scents the air
No longer seen the violet’s head.

Soon sings the wind its lullaby
To soothe and calm the wearied field
That breathes a tired, forlorn sigh
No longer burdened by its yield.

Cold starlight pricks the lucid night
Cast down the distant Moon its beam
All the crickets have taken flight
Asleep, the trees of summer dream.

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