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Pamela’s Pretty Pictures

Pamela Prichard paints such pretty pictures
Though she is completely colorblind;
She can see some shades of black and white,
But gorgeous colors she sees only in her mind.

Pamela Prichard paints such pretty pictures:
Bouncing beach balls, gulls suspended
In a steady breeze; kids at play, smiling,
And Summer days that never ended.

Pamela Prichard paints such pretty pictures,
Helped by friends—and one device:
An artist’s wheel with letters, numbers,
Each one an oil paint color signifies.

Pamela Prichard paints such pretty pictures
At her age of nearly eighty-two;
When she approaches paints and easel,
She imagines scenes in every hue,

Aglow in tones beyond those muddled dabs
That puddle on her basic palette—
Pamela Prichard paints such pretty pictures,
Sun and moon, the sky with starlets—

But today, she paints her Deity’s iris
In exploding colors far beyond the seven
Paltry ones contained in rainbows—
Now, Pamela Prichard paints in Heaven.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
Last few words: 
An artist friend died and I like to think that she now paints all the wonders of heaven she had imagined here in earth.
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

that you are well versed in poetry and meter, so I will not bother to give a lesson in such. I found that this describes a person that obviously meant something to you and that the emotion means more than getting the meter just right. I will leave it to you to 'fix' it. I am supposing that you never will and that's alright; but I have found that I can write something and let it settle and then in time, go back and to work it over. Sometimes, I don't post a thing until I have worked it over for awhile. Just sayin'.
I did find the emotion of it compelling and it made me wonder about how my life would be changed if I had suffered such a disablity. Nice. ~ Geez.
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I feel that once one has learned the rules, it's okay to break the rules, within moderation, especially if it serves to keep the context going, However,I can be a stickler where and when it matters. I don't even mind mixing up Iambs, trochees or anapests if it suits my rhymes. Anyhow, Pam was a good friend and interesting artist in her own rights. I have admired her very much, Thank you, my friend. Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

only hope that you have aquired at least one of her paintings to admire and remember her by. ~ Geez.
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Our Chatroom is open 24/7 Feel free to use it for
keeping in touch We have poets around the world and it is fun
to have real-time conversations with those that are up
all night or on the other side of the world.
.

I have a couple of her oils, alas nothing of collector value. Still i can appreciate her struggle. Her work resembles that of Grandma Moses, if you can picture that woman's work. Thanks, Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

Hey this is deeply moving, i actually googled this lady because i wasn't sure if she may have been famous, but actually she was to you and now she is to us. Sometimes you really pull the heart strings Sir, nothing wrong with that. Beautiful in every way. She sounds like a true Lady and most missed by her friend. a great dedication to someone who was in your life.

Thank you...Teddy

No, Pam was just a member of our painting club, no one special--just to me and Lynda.
BTW, our walls are covered with Lynda's watercolors and my oils. I hate to part with them. I'm so glad you like my poem, but sad that it pulls your heart strings, dear. There
should be no room for sadness . . . . Till later, dear lady, and thank you. Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

If she was important enough to write in a poem I disregard your words sorry. She was obviously worth a lot at least to someone

Thank you...Teddy

I understand what you are saying, but I am not what you might call a grieving person. I cherished her memory, but then my own life took over in priority. I doubt that strangers will take time out to write a poem about my own handicaps or afflictions. But you have a kind heart, Teddy, and I thank you for being you. Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

I understand now, thank you.

Thank you...Teddy

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