The Red Carnation

The Red Carnation prose poem

Photo by mamamusings

She tiptoed lightly down the stairs, so quietly and some pause.
At only eight, it was quite clear, her sight was on a cause.
Her mother’s drawing pad, her brushes, and her paints;
her goal to leave behind a painting, large, simple, and quite quaint.
She sat right down upon the chair and readied several brushes,
and then began her first art try, with red and white paint touches.
The piece became a flower, large, like one giant red carnation,
and in all truth, the finished piece, was really a sensation.
She tiptoed lightly up the stairs and went back to her room,
and wished the day would start again, and very very soon.
The time went slow and seemed like years but finally it arrived;
her mother planned to paint that morn, the artist had survived.
Her mother walked in nonchalant and headed for her chair,
but noticed something on her board, bright colors and real flair.
She knew at once who did the piece and called her loud and clear,
to come right down without delay to praise her with good cheer.
The rest is history in the Arts, a story of belief,
the lass who did the flower then, became the great O’ Keefe.
(A poem dedicated to Charles Talluto)

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Warren P Padla

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majored in journalism at NYU in the 50s; received my masters in business from there and worked for Equitable Life in NY for many years. When retired entered antique business and real estate; retired to Massachusetts and Florida; currently do a lot of volunteer work. Friends forced me into poetry due to much writing I had sent to them over the years. So I joined High On Poems. the end, warren
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