Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The Art World knows her face, and, for certain, her smile; a smile sad, enigmatic, constrained. So I read, with some interest, of a copy that that’s thought to share an author one and the same. The provenance of the piece is not clear; Some detect the Master’s own style. Others contend an apprentice’s fingers transcribed the work like a file. The dispute will continue, for years I suspect. The work will be x-rayed for clues If it turns out to be Leonardo’s own work, I t will certainly be front page news. He carried the original wherever he went. He was proud of this work, I am sure. In a long life of work there would be time enough to copy this famed portraiture. I look on it now: She is modest, demure, her lips bear the hint of a smile. She’s a thin coat of oil on poplar wood, done in his unmistakable style. Are you a copy or are you for real? Dear Lady, refined and reserved, in you was the hand of the Master at work? Mona Lisa’s not saying a word.
0
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
The Hand of the Master
The Art World knows her face, and, for certain, her smile; a smile sad, enigmatic, constrained. So I read, with some interest, of a copy that that’s thought to share an author one and the same. The provenance of the piece is not clear; Some detect the Master’s own style. Others contend an apprentice’s fingers transcribed the work like a file. The dispute will continue, for years I suspect. The work will be x-rayed for clues If it turns out to be Leonardo’s own work, I t will certainly be front page news. He carried the original wherever he went. He was proud of this work, I am sure. In a long life of work there would be time enough to copy this famed portraiture. I look on it now: She is modest, demure, her lips bear the hint of a smile. She’s a thin coat of oil on poplar wood, done in his unmistakable style. Are you a copy or are you for real? Dear Lady, refined and reserved, in you was the hand of the Master at work? Mona Lisa’s not saying a word.
john-f-mccullagh
Written by
63/M/American
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 9:27 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem