Operation Just Cause... ...for as long as it takes
Copyright Peggy King 1999
by Peggy King
I will use the
artist type canvas
ultra- smooth,
portrait grade,titanium primed,
only the best will do
for a portrait of you,
your eyes so very blue.
Rose and Mauve and Maples yellow hue,
some white too, pretty
as the colours of Martha's vineyard.
In the art store I found almost all that I
would need to do the protrait of you,
only courage was missing where might
I buy that colour or find that colour?
There amoung the artist's watercolor
was a handsome man in a black T-shirt
one side of his shirt- said
Beethoven, one side read - Immortal Beloved.
We began to talk I said what is your passion
music or art?
He said back kindly, both I guess,
then he said I paint and write and play the piano
and the clarinet.
I thought for a while and said,
which do you like the best the Piano or
the clarinet.
He said, I can not say, I love them both
in very different ways.
But art is a divine lust deep within my
heart, so of them all I guess I love art the
best he said with a creative smile.
I told him yes, I know you must capture the
canvas as if it is your only disire, a part
of your own soul.
We said our good-byes, I knew I might never see
him again he had that kind of J.F.K. Jr. grin.
As I looked about the paintbrushes,
I dropped a bucket of like one million
brushes they fell like stars to the art store floor.
Two little girls about nine or ten, on the other side of the
glass table started to pick them up with the
help of my daugther for some reason I did not
care, I had a mission and could not stop,
I felt this deep down within my heart.
Once out the doors I wondered why I was
so driven as not to help them collect
the paintbrushes. I did feel kind of bad
for the space of a thought or two.
So back to my art of the day, the one I do in the
heat of July, makes me think back to
the art of John F. Kennedy, that hung in my grandmother's
bedroom- of him in the oval office as her favorite
president, there near a flag of red, white
and blue and of November tears.
Things and times of long ago how they sometimes
tarry in my soul,in my heart,
but fade they do like the flowers of
a vineyard out near the sea.
Whitney as I paint you, I wonder what you really see
in eyes so universal blue
