Breath of turpentine

as pine-trees whisper to the breeze
I close my eyes to hear your voice
I close my eyes and feel your touch
and in their breath of turpentine
my life’s a blank canvas
and my fingers slowly paint
the colors of your sleeping face
in hues of apricot and dew
as you gently brush my lips

but

I stumble on the pine-tree’s root
suddenly aware

Grand Pine tree by Xu Beihong

Grand Pine tree by Xu Beihong


Linked to Real Toads where Grace want us to write poetry inspired by Gabriela Mistral. I had not read anything, but I was primarily inspired by the loss of the man she loved and tried to capture that.

August 9, 2014

25 responses to “Breath of turpentine

  1. I love the mention of turpentine and the forest that you painted, Bjorn. It’s kind of neat…my sister has been doing reike and getting attuned and she has has several incidences of smelling turpentine for no apparent reason at all. The mention of it in your poem caused me to think on this. Great poem!

  2. How sad but I really admire this part:

    my fingers slowly paint
    the colors of your sleeping face
    in hues of apricot and dew

    Thanks for linking up with Real Toads Bjorn ~ Happy Sunday ~

  3. You chose the exact line for your title. I love the position it has in the poem itself – the scent so redolent of loss. There is much emotion written into these lines.

  4. the turpentine breath is intriguing…you always mix unexpected images into your poems… sad on the stumbling over the roots… i’d say close your eyes and paint on…smiles

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