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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365881" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Artist's Dilemma</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wind blew in and the wind blew out<br>And it surged around the eaves, <br>The door out to the patio slammed<br>And the yard filled up with leaves, <br>Then Susan sighed, ‘There's goes my ride, <br>I was going to take the mare, <br>Now what can we do on a Sunday when<br>The wind's so wild out there? '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her aunt lay back on the couch and stared<br>At me, with her doe-black eyes, <br>Not much older than Susan, she<br>Was Venus, in disguise, <br>Her fingers ran through her coal-black hair<br>And her hand smoothed down her thigh, <br>‘Why don't you ask the artist, dear, <br>Before his paints run dry.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'd finished painting the background in<br>Of the leaves that swirled in the air, <br>But put my palette aside and turned<br>To look for her meaning there, <br>Then Susan laughed, as she always did: <br>‘Do you mean that you'd be game? <br>I've only modelled alone before<br>But two? It would be insane! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Imelda slowly uncurled herself<br>Rose steadily to her feet, <br>‘I'll be the older matron, while<br>You shall be young, and sweet.'<br>I shrugged, effecting a nonchalance<br>That I didn't really care, <br>But said, ‘Okay, I can paint you, <br>Put your clothes on the old armchair.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I played about with my palette, mixed<br>The tones in a kind of blush, <br>Squeezed the Titanium White, and mixed<br>It in with the tip of my brush, <br>And when I finally turned around<br>They were stood, stark naked there, <br>I said, ‘Clasp hands, then back to back, <br>And Sue, let down your hair.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'd painted my wife a thousand times<br>So I knew each curve and line, <br>But Imelda, this was the first I'd seen<br>And I caught my breath in time, <br>Her black hair over her shoulders and<br>Her breasts, so firm and white, <br>Her hips the marvel of womanhood<br>And her thighs - a man's delight! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I turned on back to the easel, tried<br>To steady my shaking hand, <br>I thought of myself as an artist, <br>Underneath it, I was a man! <br>And Imelda caught a glimpse of that<br>As her lips curled in a smile, <br>She knew that my heart was pounding, <br>But my lust would wait for a while.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That painting hangs on the passage wall<br>And visitors stare in awe, <br>At the vision of womanly beauty <br>That the eyes of the artist saw, <br>And Imelda bridles at compliments<br>Then gives me the evil eye, <br>She's often said, there's a place in bed, <br>But I shake my head, with a sigh! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">1 October 2012</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365881" data-title="The Artist's Dilemma de David Lewis Paget" data-description="The wind blew in and the wind blew out
And it surged around the eaves, 
The door out to the patio slammed
And the yard filled up with leaves, 
Then Susan sighed, ‘There's goes my ride, 
I was going to take the mare, 
Now what can we do on a Sund..."></div>
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