Biography
Writing is my creative outlet for exploring the world around me.
Cezanne's Muse.
Cézanne’s Muse The lady with the black umbrella Punctuates the scene laid out before me Etched into the landscape Adding a new layer to the peeling paint of history She wanders through the scene that lays before me Chimney smoke mingling with the clouds Heavy, opaque snow clouds smothering the sky Silent whispers free themselves from the opaqueness Quietly sneaking down to share a special secret- With the imposing mountain peaks Foreboding peaks pierce the menacing grey sky Higher and prouder than the Chateau The monolith Booming, looming over this town of antiquity Perhaps it was a gift from Cézanne - The red hand bag that she carries Provides relief from the sombre greys and blacks that surround her Drawing the eye, beckoning you to reply The spark of crimson red juxtaposed against the blackness of her coat Somehow makes her seem less remote She cuts through the scene that lays before me Cézanne’s brush has laid down the backdrop to her life Not for her the brash colours of Gaudi Nor for her the the abstract world of Picasso For her he offers exquisite water colours Muted shades of blue nestled into The crumbling colours of stone Crowned with faded terracotta hues Washed by a thousand harsh winters Baked by a thousand searing summers And … Should she tire of the cobbled streets She is free to wander the endless country lanes Here she will rejoice in the haunting beauty unfolding Just for her Spinal columns of trees will rise up in welcome Shaped by nature’s tortured dance they hold out their arms To greet her She will walk on a carpet of the deepest shades of green Surpassed only by the colour of her eyes She can pause to observe the vignettes of life Gaze at her reflection in the glassy lake Leave the Merens in her wake Soon the lady with the black umbrella will return to him And he waits impatiently A crystal decanter shimmers in the firelight The deep ruby liquid awaits her lips She will take off her black coat In favour of silk Cézanne's muse no longer remote Will find comfort in his embrace And the fruit of his hips C.K. 22
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Blog entries by Clare
The Grace of Age. (25/09/2024)
My Name is Anne. (24/09/2024)
Her Name is Anne. (22/09/2024)
Her Name is Anne. (22/09/2024)
Planting Hope for Tomorrow. (20/09/2024)
Lady of the Lake. (13/09/2024)
Masterpiece. (12/09/2024)
Mosaic Heart (09/09/2024)
Je t’adore. (06/09/2024)
The Black Dog. (28/08/2024)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/clare
Audio entries by Clare
Circumspect (30/05/2023)
My Sweetest Inner Child. - repost with audio (29/05/2023)
Sunny. (10/04/2023)
Favourite Profiles
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Comments
Glad you like my 'nu provencal', Clare. If you you check out the news section on Write Out Loud yoiu'll find an interview between me asnd Greg Freeman on the appearance of my Collected Poems.
<Deleted User> (33540)
Sun 23rd Oct 2022 13:20
Thank you for liking * Grandma's golden hours*
Thanks for your comment on my profile, Clare. Really enjoying your poetry. Very personal, brave and, well, poetic! 😎 I think 'My sweetest inner child' is exquisite!
Yes family and I all well, thanks. Hope you and yours are likewise.
All the best. John.
Thanks Clare, that's lovely to hear
Thank you Claire for xx
Thank you, Clare, for the comments on my poems. This is for you:
MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE
“When you .set sail for Ithaca, wish for the road to be long, full of adventures, full of knowledge.” CP Cavafy
Curlews cry, an Aegean sky: a boat
lifts and falls. The heat of noon, a lethargic
gloom, she's tracked with light this star-struck night.
Moon-shadows cast, it's cool at last, this sweep
and swell, this road to hell. This ship's becalmed
with false alarms, this attic night of bone-white light:
no palimpsest, no Grecian zest.
A sapphic wind balloons the moon, fans the fog's
penumbra, spreads this shadowy gloom. The ship's horn
sounds, these hung penumbras,
this
scattered light.
This haven isle, this Sapphic home,
these cliffs, these stories, this all alone; this fog-horn
fright, these brittle bones, this scattered light,
this all alone.
1992
Thank you for the comment on my profile, Clare. It has also led me to your profile, I must say I have been enjoying reading your poems❣️
Ref: My recent feedback.
You are most welcome,Clare. I enjoy the honesty of your poetry, You hold nothing back. You tell it how it is, whilst combining that with sublime poetic skill!. No pressure but Keep up the great work!
Thank you, Clare. It is always a pleasure to read your poems. Thanks for your kind comment.
“Mighty is the charm
Of these abstractions to a mind beset
With images, and haunted by herself
And specially delightful unto me
Was that clear synthesis built up aloft
So gracefully.”
― William Wordsworth, The Prelude
<Deleted User> (33000)
Tue 12th Apr 2022 23:37
We thank you Clare for liking ' Broken down Angel '
<Deleted User> (33000)
Fri 1st Apr 2022 19:30
Cheers bigtime Clare for you very kind like of my poem-
Poor payback for a soul soldier 👍
Hi Clare. I've really enjoyed your recent poems. You're on top form in my view! I wouldn't have been so flippant about Kathleen if I'd known she was a real person. However, I do feel your poem hits upon a truth about alcohol.
Keep writing fine poems and I'll keep liking them! 😀
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Chris Armstrong
Sun 23rd Jul 2023 23:19
Thanks for the kind words, Clare. Only just wrote the 'Twixt Pen and Eye' and I don't have any upcoming collections so it will be a while before it gets published elsewhere.