And cannot say
What pain has filled her breast.
When morning rise,
Here still she lies,
Wishing he’d never left.
Here hang his helmet,
And his shield,
Never to be used again.
For in the days past
He gave his last,
And in the battle was slain.
Now she does cry,
Head on hand doth lie,
Thinking of her beloved.
For never again
Will she feel sane,
And happiness doth she covet.
This is an ekphrastic poem I wrote, in which I described what I saw in this particular painting. I saw a distressed woman, as well as a helmet and shield hanging on the wall. I interpreted these images as a woman who had been widowed by the death of a husband at war. Feel free to share what you saw in this painting, or how you felt about my poem!
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