________________________________________________
Title: Leonardo To Monna Lisa
Author: John Presland [
More Titles by Presland]
I wish you were a beaker of Venetian glass
That I might fill you with most precious wine
And drink it, breathless--lo! the moments pass
Of that subliminal communion.
I take you from my lips, and crush you--so!--
Into a thousand shining particles;
So, at the last, my passionate greed shall know
That you were wholly mine.
I wish you were a rare, stringed instrument
Beneath my hand, and from you I would wring
Such unimagined music, as was sent
Never before, along the quivering nerves;
Such strange, sharp discords, out of which I'd mould
Music more sweet than the spring nightingale's;
Then, ere the magic of the sound was old,
Would I not rend each string?
Possess you? Ah, not with the world's possession,
You still, strange creature; neither force nor will
Could make you serve a man's mere earthly passion.
I would dissolve you, in one blinding flash,
Into a drop of elemental dew,
And let you trickle down the barren rock
Into the black abyss, if so I knew
That you henceforth were powerless to mock
My spirit with your smile.
[The end]
John Presland's poem: Leonardo To Monna Lisa
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
