Where human works come together in unity with nature Light and silence sanctifies their union
Tag: William Merritt Chase
The Olive Grove
In grove of green Luscious light forms fruit Where ancient tracks formed By horse-drawn carts Sit alongside to advise the process
To share is human:
Fading Capacity
Back when I could both see and feel
Landscapes like this I treasured;
But senses dull with age, disuse
And I’m now rarely pleasured
By scenes of art or nature, as
Capacities are fading;
Yes, losing joy is part of life —
But it’s
So damned
Degrading
To share is human:
Good Friends
She and she were best of friends
A century past, in a sunny place;
Brought back to vibrant life today
In art by William Merritt Chase
I saw a gallery of his work
And stopped and gazed, hour on hour’
And felt, somehow, that I had been
Where he had been, by some strange power
Been on the beach, or in a grove,
Been in a park, or off in Spain;
Or been with two friends on a lawn
In some way that I can’t explain
And like this woman and this dog
I felt a kinship to this man
I’d never heard of anywhere
Before I saw his work, firsthand
To share is human:
Sunny Spain
I wish I was in sunny Spain
Where I could find my life again
And breathe the air of inspiration
At least, in my imagination
I’d travel to a distant spot
That modern times had long forgot
And work all day out on the land
A healthy, fit and tanning man –
Or maybe not. That doesn’t sound
Like what life’s like when I’m around:
More likely, in my ease arrayed
I’d sip sangria in the shade
To share is human:
Coastal View
The strand between earth and sea
Hangs suspended
As does this moment
To share is human:
Changing Times
The world-we-know we come to think the world,
Though what-has-been might be outside our framing.
But all need not remain what it is now –
For some parts of our past
Are worth
Reclaiming
To share is human:
First Touch of Autumn
When comes first touch of autumn, I
Begin to feel alive;
My heart begins to wander out
And mind begins to strive
To find secluded hills, somewhere,
Where summer-grass lies waiting
For that first touch of autumn that
We find so
Liberating
To share is human:
The Nursery
The day feels alive;
The setting looks familiar —
But the clothes
Don’t seem that practical
