Portrait of My Soul

During our almost forty years together we have moved quite a few times. We have had all kinds of neighbours some good, some bad and at one of our homes a neighbour from hell who would take a swing at Steve any time they passed. So it is such a joy to have all the lovely neighbours we have in our home in Toddington Lane, Littlehampton. Helen across the road who apart from giving me friendship, keeps my wildish hair under control, and her lovely family who I have seen grow up. Jan and Christine live right next door, both play saxophone in bands and I find their devotion to practice comforting that I am not the only freak with a serious obsessive hobby. They also play ping pong in the garden and I hear their happiness over the fence. Christine is also a stunning artist a painted a portrait of me in 2002. Christine's image of me hangs by my desk and watches me work, sleep and sees how I feel and everything I write.

Portrait of My Soul

 

At first glance she dares you to look away

Then makes you think about what you will say

Attention fixed ‘No nonsense please’ to convey

Challenge

Her bright red, dyed head of naturally curly hair

A stop light helmet of protection to be aware

The falsehood misleadingly shouts; take care

Guard 

The eyes lock firmly on to the viewers gaze

Time stills or ponders on some old yesterdays

Sitters hazel eyes (now painted blue) appraise

Think 

Wearing lenses coloured to the artist’s choice

Once garrulous woman now has a quietened voice

Imprisoning frame holds one no more able to rejoice

Restriction 

Concentration cannot unlock her from your face

Determined stalking rather than a heated race

Following the intruder around a limited space

Control 

She silently takes in all within her placid sight

Dimming but still held still throughout the night

Relentless no matter if movement be left or right

Helpless 

The carefully painted eyes seem slowly to change

A rainbow of emotions expressed within their range

To have been put there by a brush seems so strange

Incredible 

Searching my mind whilst concentration stays in abstention

A moment in time hovers forever in spiritual suspension 

An invasion of my soul if this be skill by intention

Fear 

An exploratory operation undertaken to find the cause

To remove faults with scalpels, claps and shiny saws

Delicate remedial work cut, stitched, then held with gauze

Fright 

I see myself clearly in my artist friend’s patient work

The mouth reflects a secret humour too polite to smirk

Neath the surface of her strokes, my inner truth shall lurk

Confidence