a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
a classical musician and poet, sent Ethel a poem about one of her drawings:
Sherry Grant’s poem:
To Your Melody
By Sherry Grant (Op.2786)
2021-11-22
Utter magic! Webs of colours you freely spin,
Bittersweet young passion, time left beguiled,
Hesitant tears rush, sensation penetrates skin,
Hopelessly tangled knot, hearts racing wild.
At the edge of a dream two unicorns meet,
Sigh after sigh, clearer the shape of ecstasy,
Each ascension a fresh fountain so sweet,
This heaven built for you and me, our intimacy.
©️ Sherry Grant, Auckland, 2021-11-22, Op.2786
Inspired by ‘To Music’ by Franz Adolf Friedrich von Schober (Germany, 1796 – 1882) and
Alexander Scriabin‘s ‘The Poem of Ecstasy’ (Le Poème de l’extase), Op. 54
©️ ‘Song of Ecstasy’ (pastel) by Ethel Mortenson Davis (USA)
https://fourwindowspress.com/2012/01/14/song-of-ecstacy
Ethel Mortenson Davis’s drawing that inspired the poem:
Filed under Art, Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
February 16, 1982 – July 23, 2010


Overlook Tower
Arches of Scoria
Arches of scoria,
bridging eye to eye,
we lean back, falling gently.
Stones like hands
catch our curiosities
at the cusp of a cool wind.
Delicate branches reach down:
fingers wrapped around supports of light
peering through a passage of silence.
Our eyes close momentarily,
and the passage inundates with another kind of light.
The train,
several minutes late – as usual –
leads us to bustling boardwalks and ocean breezes.
Thronged by movement,
silence shies away,
its wisdom stowed between new verbs.
We must pay heed.
For in silence,
the arches collapse into a volcanic flow
and collide into the ocean’s embrace.
Cool winds carry us, as equals, to stark realities.
Frailty inspires us.
Filed under Art, Photography, poems, Poetry
Filed under Art, Photography
Spring Garden and a Poem by Ethel Mortenson Davis
So fragile the circle
of the earth.
Clouds swirl upon her
in endless feathers.
All life surrenders to her.
She even brings you
back to me.

Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography, poems, Poetry