Portrait of Heaven ~

 

~ Portrait of Heaven ~

 

 

Quietly the artist waits,

for the arrival of his partner,

who, though true,

is slow to leave his dwelling. 

 

 

Death, is a sordid thing,

smartly clad in black, and clever,

who carefully prepares for work,

with an artist's disregard of time.

 

 

Life is deeply troubled-

but Death keeps his engagement,

and soon comes to meet him,

upon which they embrace,

in strange, familiar comfort.

 

Silently they get to work.

and Death depicts his choice-

while Life erects his canvas,

as together they prepare to paint-

 

They dash the veins of paling green,

with a gleaming silver stencil,

and then begin discussion of

the use of the acrylic hues.

 

 

Diamonds sparkle from the place,

where eyes had once kept their faith-

And ethereal lines are drawn around,

the whitish face  now deadened.

 

And when they finally join their hands,

to  lift the veil from its fasten,

a beauty sits now, watching them

arresting them unsung grace.

The portrait honed,

by these two friends,

most famous of all the artists-

now graces Heaven's watching eyes,

and cherubs looking o'er them.

 

When the artists finally turn to leave,

folds of silk caress are opened,

and pulled away from Heaven's gates,

beyond which stands their piece.

 

It  lingers on the foyer now,

of a mansion's solid grandeur,

when the inmates take it up at last,

and place it by its owner,

and  here lives in perfect measure-

its home at last, to rest in quiet,

through forever's time unnoted.