Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Canvas


You came to me wrapped in skin;
soft, smooth, clear, flawless,
skin.
I cherished it, cared for it,
bathed it, oiled and powdered it.
What clean, tender, soft skin.
I kissed it, caressed it, pampered
and protected it as a fine
piece of art.
I didn't know it was only a
canvas.
I thought it was perfect
as it was.

Mag 213 

© K. Lynette Erwin, 2014


13 comments :

  1. So nice..the feeling of anticipation...what it/he/she would be...

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  2. You are on a glorious poetry roll! This is so tender and lovely...

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    1. Thank you Tess. I think I have found my inner poet. Thank you for giving me the means and the inspiration.

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  3. Sensitive and very well thought-out.

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  4. Wow! That was so poignant for me. The first time I saw my son's huge inner arm tattoo I burst into tears. Visions of him as a baby coming into the world with that perfect soft skin came flooding back. It was perfect as it was......

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  5. YES! I am so happy my children have not inked their skin!

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  6. Ha ha , was it evolution or revolution ?

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  7. Wow! Great thoughts on display here!

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  8. Ah yes, most assuredly it is perfect!

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  9. Skin as a canvas. I really like the imagery

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  10. This was wonderful...your poem reflects my thoughts. I see my sons, handsome just as they are, with their skin unmarked just like the day they were born. None of my sons have been inked but my eldest wants to get a tattoo on his upper arm. I guess it's a case of each to their own. It's his arm, his skin & his choice!! I would however be terribly upset if he were to get ink on his face or neck like some young ones do these days.

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