I want what you can give me,
Her letters said.
The life of it all, the love
Of white arms, cold in marble and
My colours on canvas
Hanging on the parlour wall.
Her face and her flowers
I want to give her the yellow sunshine.
I want to paint
Under human bodies and music,
While the lights of London still
Outshine the dusk of Wellington – aye, the ships
And the control,
Did my father speak of this?
He spoke to you, I see. I hear his voice in yours.
I can only play the servant,
With very bad grace – but for art’s sake.
[Lois is an English Literature student from London. She writes poetry and prose, and enjoys early morning coffee, Jean Rhys, period dramas, chamber choirs and walking through cities. Her work has been published on various online blogs and magazines, and she is a regular contributor to Sudden Denouement. She writes for herself, but hopes that those who stumble across her will find something in the words for themselves, too.]