Abstract

He painted her for nothing but her love, A Cherbourg tailor’s daughter without means For such a tender rendering as this: Desirous, tense, yet teasingly serene, Those earth-brown irises, that slightest smile, Hair clipped, severe, in a tied ribboned cap, The look of expectation, quiet surprise Directed at this man her brother knew Who stroked her there with his dark oils and eyes Until she came alive on canvas threads That held her as he held her when they wed. And though she soon would pa...