Sanguine Pearls

Happy are weekends I paint in the splatters

a life while imperfect says that it matters

pondering on Sunday like a Wyeth in wheat

a favorite bound book and the dog at my feet

More distant the days of Piglet and Pooh

the heart of a bear, Robin and Roo

the wisdom of Owl and happiest lots

peppered in always their quandary of thoughts

It's simple things really, like pearls in the rain

their droplets from puddles of unlikely pain

where yesterday's clouds held the tears of my face

now rain over me from a heavenly place

not counting for sorrow in things where I lack, but here as I lay in a night without black

dreaming where yellow strikes in staccato

her peek in my yet unopened tomorrow.

*Painting: Andrew Wyeth "Distant Thunder"

1961