third street canvas

The words made me think of fairy tales, and maybe not always so happily ever after, about the ways we choose to decieve each other and ourselves and what that costs. So here are the many faces of the maiden in her tower, woven about with roses and thorns, waiting for a prince who REALLY sees. It is almost too late, the leaves are fading into autumnal glory, but there is still time to see her as she really is, and for that happy ending. Below are the poet’s words, (I don’t know their name), and following are some images

A Grand Folly

Gazing at an illusion all these years

just a painting in my mind

that I embellished again and again

loving the impression more than the subject itself

until its magnificence outshined all

the everyday beauty around me

2 thoughts on “third street canvas

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