Good Evening, folks! What a lovely day it has been. Glorious weather, accompanied with beautiful fluffy clouds, and no rain in sight. That’s quite shocking really, considering this is Ireland after all; we’re known for our torrential rain. Update on the tanning situation: Still as pale as a ghost. With all this sun, I still look like a corpse, that waltzes around in nothing but black. I look as if I’m attending my own funeral. I’m so pale, I blend into the walls. I’m so pale, even a ghost can’t see me. I’m so pale, I’m invisible. Gosh, my rambling has taken a strange twist.
So, today I have decided to pair a poem with this image. I feel as if it doesn’t need to be explained. Poetry shall suffice. I’m attempting writing my own poem, so bear with me. I have such a fascination with words, that sometimes I just have to express what an image speaks to me, but this time through the magic of poetry.
I also think that considering this image is so full of life and within it lies a curious sense of depth, that I need not influence your interpretation of it. So, enjoy! Think of it what you will, and hopefully my little poem will help you understand what I believe lies within this image.
‘Her eyes, those gleaming circles of light,
Her hair, flowing effortlessly upon her shoulders,
Those shoulders that bear the weight of the world,
Those shoulders that withstand shattering blows,
For she is a warrior, her eyes do say so.
Nothing but the truth reflects,
In a mere photograph,
Her soul is visible,
almost facile to grasp.
Why she is but a warrior, stampeding the world with all her might,
for she is indisputable, never filled with fright.
She articulates with her eyes, for they instill her lively presence,
And when she is photographed, All will see her essence.’
Oh god. That’s the second poem I’ve ever written. Remind me to never do it again. I should just stick to the Photography, something I’m relatively good at. I’ve been meaning to conjure up my own poem for one of my images, but I have been avoiding doing so. So, today I plucked up the courage. So, please understand that I am not a poet, and not an expert in poetry, I just love the art of literature.
Anyway, I wish you a lovely evening, and hope your Friday is wonderful.
See you tomorrow!
‘She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells.’