Every Classic and Fine Art painting, each piece of sculpture and every photograph has a story to

relate.  And the serious artist, in his creative labors leaves a little bit of himself in each piece of art.

It may be a feeling, a mood, a goal or a means to depart some knowledge and fact.

    The accompanying  ekphrastic poetry attempts to describe this narrative of the art. A work of art

may have more than one story depending on the imagination of the viewer.

      The Raven who guards over this gallery is  often a known trickster, sometimes  a bad omen. The suject of much mystery and folk lore.  Besides his trickery, he is an opportunist, a tattler and  even a creator in some lores.  Beware,  for he may have influenced the poets who write on this gallery.....so read with open mind  for there may be a little rookery lurking within - enjoy.

Quote  of 7th verse from 'THE  RAVEN'  by Poe

"Open here I flung the shutter, when with many a flirt and flutter,

In stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he;  not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But with mien of lord or lady,  perched above my chamber door -

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,

Perched and sat,  and nothing more.

Title:  Beached

Artist:  Sharon  Lennox       www.hilltopstudio.cjb.net

A  BOAT  FOR  PLEASURE

Beached and set aside for another time,

Adventure tales now left behind,

Has it been a holiday trip?

A weekend fishing trip?

A more sturdy boat is hard to find.

It will not lie in dry-dock long,

For on land it does not belong,

With well tuned jet below,

Cabin shelter in a blow,

A pleasure craft, on lake or on pond.

                                          ...ffacer....

TITLE:  Moon Over  Diamond  Head

Artist:  Celeste Vaught           http://www.celestevaught.com

WAIKKI  SHORE

The moon reflects on purple ripples along the Waikki shore,

The ebb and flow,  rhythmic and simple,  one stands in awe to adore.

Such colors;  red,  purple,  green and gold,

Reflections of the moon,  bright and bold,

And beyond the night is dark,  mysterious,

Contrasts the light;  makes the vista more glorious.

With paint to canvas,  this wonderful sight recalled from another time,

Mixing colors to get the hue just right,  matching Nature's true design.

The artist may truly never duplicate,

Memories only the mind can relate,

But gallant effort mde in paint and rhyme promise one may go back

at a later time.

                                                                                                  ...ffacer...

Title:  BIG  WAVE

Artist:  Anita  Rautiola          http;//anttiola.com

NATURE'S  MOODS

Big waves -

slipping,  sliding,  splashing and

rocking in the valley between swells;

tossing spray and foam,

dueling with the wind and

saturating the air with

refreshing and chilled,

tangy salt-sea smells -

A privilege to admire

Nature's gift of the

raw elements at their best.

Sculptors,

with chisel and marble quartz:

authors with grammered words:

artists with canvas and paint,

all hopelessly attempt

to capture these wild visions

for their own posterity.

Fear not, foolish humans,

Mother Nature is here

for Eternity.

...ffacer...

Title:  DANCING  INN  SPACE   [Digital illustration]

Artist:  Jinny Brown         http://www.pixelalley.com 

CYBER  GYRATIONS

Simple petal - flowing roots

Graceful swirls without droops

An elusive flower clothed in prism

Swaying to a silent rhythm.

Far out in cyber space it dwells

Privilage to view

A palette of flowing swirls.

                              ...ffacer...

Title:   PAINTED  SKY

Artist:  Raenette Franklin         www.ArtisticSailboats.com

                                        www.RLFranklin 

ONE   DAY  AT  SEA

Crisp wind, the crack of the canvas overhead,

Seaweed floating up from it's seabed,

Spray misting across the bow,

Dolphins diving,  here and now,

And sunset colors turn the sea to red.

Rolling gently through swell of waves,

Sailors become addicted sea slaves.

Sighing softly through the swell,

In the distance, faint bouy bells,

Sweet sounds; this moment to save.

She rolls to lee;  leans back to star,

Nite grows near so don't go far,

First stars,  faint and far above,

They know sailing's my first love.

A pleasure day;  let nothing mar.

                                    ...ffacer...

SAILING  IN A  BOAT AT EVENING

How rich the wind in front,  imprest,

With evening twilights summer hues,

White, thus facing the crimson west,

The boat her silent path persues,

And see how dark the backward stream!

A little moment,  past, so smiling!

And still,  perhaps, with faithless gleam,

Some other loiterer beguiling.

                            ...Wm. Wordsworth...

Title:  ANNUNCIATION

                Artist:  Stephanie Neely         http://www.stephanieneely.com

ALL  FROM  THE  WILD  ROSE

The full roster of the spoken prayer

Contains one hundred and fifty verse,

And the people's numbers would waver,

Losing their count from end to end.

Celtic Monks held many a-talks,

Why not use  a hundred and fifty stone

Or tie a hundred and fifty knots

Too heavy,  to hard and  causing moans.

Somtimes dilemmas are solved by chance,

Or by many testings and more trials,

Or perhaps it came in a devine trance,

To use petals from the rose in  the wild.

So they gathered the petals en-mass,

Cooked and then rolled them into balls,

Set to dry - not slow - not too fast,

And  shrunk to bead size, so 'tis recalled.

On a thread, alternate with pearls,

Sewed them out on a long string.

This gift they gave to the world

And the first rosary came into being.

Now people can say their prayers,

And never lose count of the verse,

Thanks to this one donation, a favor,

Prayer count is true;  ne'er reversed.

                                    ...ffacer...

Tittle:  HUNTER'S   CAMP

Artist:  Faye Facer             www.FacerArtStudio

WHO  WILL  HONOR  US

Who will tell the stories

when the story tellers are gone?

Who will teach our children to hunt

and gather when our parents are dead?

Who will be left to pass down

tradition and knowledge?

No one,

no one.

Who  will collect our furs and turquoise

when the shooting stops?

Who will give our people a proper burial?

Who will honor us with respect and restore

truth in the history books?

No one,

no one.

                               ...(c)Mike Hubbert...

Title:  REFLECTIONS

Artist:  Faye  Facer      www.FacerArtStudio.com 

AWAITING   THE    BLOW

First snow on the mountain,

                                 cool chilly breeze,

Jack Frost has decorated

                           all of the valley trees,

A full moon floats above and

                   puts silver into the scene,

Soon come  northern storms

                       and the lake will freeze,

The winds will howl and build

                            to a Northern Blow,

And this whole scene will

                           be white with snow.

                             ...ffacer....

FACE  OF  WISDOM

An elderly Indian Tribal Lady             http://acelaimimages.com

HISTORY  IN  A  FACE

You may say this is a face of age,

But it's a living history page;

Knows stress of doing without,

Saw hardships in times of drought,

Endured it all without rage.

Saw two wars;  greed never done;

One took her man, the other her son.

Survived weathers wild,

Polio took youngest grandchild.

Money?  There wasn't some.

saw fear and worry in life's miles;

Pain and tears, fewer smiles.

She hides the hurt of loss,

Accepts woes as life's cost;

Strong woman, harbors no wiles.

Now in time of her latter years,

Eyes dry, she has no more tears;

Wrinkles, earned every one.

Her time here is near done,

Faces that too withour any fear.

                                     ...ffacer...

DEEPLY  ROOTED

                                                     Artist: Tammy Odom       http://tammyodom.com 

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,

whose confindence is in Him.

He will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream"

RIVER  TREE

River tree,   standing there,

Southwind blowing through her hair;

She took her stand in river sand

So long ago.

Gracious lady of the earth,

Nurtured in her sudden birth

By a river flow,  northern rain and snow.

You saw your Mother live and die,

Felt the warn - a daughters cry

And stood the pain of history.

River tree of peace and  love,

Performance given from above;

With measured care

Your branches  flare and touch the sky;

Ages bend  your body fair.

With every season you have shared

Your sheltered ground;

This hallowed ground that's sleeping here

I touch your skin and you are worm;

Your tone is pale but your heart is strong

You'll never know

What you've given me.

River tree standing there,

Southwind through her hair

She took her stand in river sand

So long ago.

Gentle lady of the earth

Nurtured in her sudden birth

By a river flow, northern snow and rain

And as I leave I hear your voice,

Telling me I have a choice,

To love and live or hate and die.

                     ...Lane Dahlan....

Title:  Sungold - Wall Sculpture

                                             Sculptor: Robert Stagemyer     www.villageartgallerycom

GODDESS  OF  SPARKLING  LIGHT

SUNGOLD,   Goddess of sparkling light,

the one who puts spark into a lovers heart

so he will pine both day and night

when he and his lover are apart.

She can calm the waves of old quarrels

when without reason tempers flare

and angry hurting words are hurled

without thought,  feelings or care.

She has a simple potion to put things right

and the ingredients can never be fake,

When just a touch of her sparkling light,

an honest heart can fix any break.

So if you seek the secrets of her potion,

the remedy is simple;  not costly,

Is not of any strange or odd  concoction;

Ingredients are hope,  faith, love and honesty.

                                                     ....ffacer....

 Title:  MASON

Artist: Mary Beth Martin     http://marybethmartin.com

KEEPING   IT   PURE

The face of innocense;  gaze fixed and beyond,

What visions is this young mind able to find,

Times to come,  will he remember and respond,

When leaders lie,  will he tell and remind.

Wisdom of children speaks without malice,

Can this innocense be preserved,  to keep?

Age and years teaches us to be callous;

May the winds of history not make him weep.

...ffacer...

Title:  LITTLE  GIRL  IN  A  RED  DRESS

Artist:  Dianne Gardner      http://www.gardnerart.com

Grandee's  Lament

The little girl in the dress of red, her head tilted slightly to the side,

There is a sweetness about her that swells a Grandee's heart in pride,

For she wears an invisible veil that protects the young innocents pure,

And you know that love for this child is forever and will endure.

In time so short to a woman she will grow and innocence will fade,

She too must endure life's ups and downs and face them unafraid,

She will be friend to many; become a lover and then a mother,

And learn that the purest love is that which you give to another.

As the years pass by,  Grandee will recall the saucy tilt of a little head,

And the pert little smile of a cute small girl in a dress of red,

Sweet memories linger of a laughing child, innocent and coy,

Who will have given Grandee a source of pure and loving joy.

                                                   ...ffacer...

Verses 1,2,3 and 7 from

POETRY   IN   PICTURES

A  museum  in  my  mind

A  place  that  I  call  home

Poetry in pictures

Visions  like  my  own.

With  paint  the  canvas  comes  alive

In  blues,  and  greens,  and  golds,

And  in  the  texture  of  my  heart

The  story  there  unfolds.

Into  MONET.S  garden  I  slip

If  only  for  a  moment.

Time  and  distance  fade  away

I am  his  chosen  student.

"Monseur," I say.  "Please  tell  me  how

You  knew  of  Eden's  beauty;

And  rest  did  you  upon  her  shore

Her  secrets  there  to  explore?

Returned  to  us  in  picture  story

God's  gift  of  nature  and  her  glory."

DEGAS,   I spy  your  innocence

Upon  the  canvas  screen.

The  beauty  of  the  ballerina

Drifting  through  your  dream.

"Pardonnez-moi,"  I say to you

"What  music  do  you  hear?

And  do  you  dance  the  dance  of  grace?

Innocence   of  pale  pink  lace

Bring  to  us  the  feeling  of

Purity's  true  place  in  love."

On and on the artist's brush

Paints it's spell on me;

Splashes of the colors used

Throughout art's history.

Touched am I as is the world,

When we through eyes beheold

The story of each artist's life

In painted form unfold.

...(c)Angela Lewis...

Title: sing along with me

"WALK  LIKE  AN  EGYPTIAN

Photographer:  C. Robinson

WINGS  OF  SHORE  AND  SONG

Jonathon Livingston Sea  Gull,

                       scavenger of the shores,

He's here when the sun shines

                    and on days when it pours,

No matter if the sea rolls in calm

                       or if it crashes and roars.

A beach janitor  you say,  cleans up

                         the beaches every day.

Shameless thief;  steal your lunch;

                leaves his droppings as pay.

A rascal, a rogue but on the wing,

                             a most graceful flier.

Not to be undone in voice,

                     he's the noisiest of criers.

And of his mischievous ways,

                      he just never-ever-tires.

                                                ...ffacer...

Title:   EVENING GLOVES AND RED BOOTS

Artist: Corby Magnuson       www.ravencanvas.com

NORTHERN    MYSTERY

The lady was a lovely vision

In her gown of brilliant crimson.

Of course she was the belle of the ball,

Courted by gentlemen both short and tall,

But the lady could not make up her mind

As she sized up the gentlemen of every kind.

At midnight she left the dance floor;

Slipped quietly out the side door;

Down to the beach for a quiet walk,

Away from the fake and flattering  talk.

The sea was calm and the night was magic,

There was no sign of anything tragic.

Iridescent ice sparkled along the shore,

Iceberg in the background - one and more.

The moonlight was pale through the cloud,

Laid the world below in an eerie shroud.

Then came an Ice Maiden with tail and fins

Invited the Lady in Red to go for a swim.

Together they swam away from the shore,

And the Lady in Red was seen no more.

Later, through the misty morning light,

By a twist of kelp that came in the night,

Lay the  red gloves and boots left behind;

A mystery for all to ponder in mind.

Now on winter nights, cold and bright, 'tis said,

That the Northern lights turn to crimson red,

The self same shade as the Lady's red dress -

A friendly sign that welcomes all guests.

                                 ...ffacer...

Title:   FROSTED  SPIDERWEB

TO  CAPTURE  YOU

We've got this secret,

You and I.

As you read this line

you travel through my ear

down to my spine; I make you

mine precisely for the time I've

caught you in my poem's

soul and bones; I work on you

like birds flit around a trunk;

brush slight breezes with

their wings up on your face,

replace just for the moment that

you're with me your inconstancy.

Poems are spider webs laced over

branches, catching the unwary

with their diamond dew. Oh,

the things I wouldn't do

to capture you.

...Guy Kettlehack

SHADOWS  IN  OUR  MIDST

Unknown newpaper clipping

A  LOST  BOY

Dirt evokes ghostly hue;

taunt skin  expose inner self;

pangs beg for need,  want,

abandoned of mother's milk;

neglect of father's hand.

Child's sting,  innocent naught

...Ridge Cahill...

SHADOWS

Found on the street,

at refuge dumps;

intimate with hunger

and fear.

Without guidance,

enticed to crime.

Young souls,

Shadows in our midst.

  ... ffacer...

Title:  REFUGE  PATH

Artist: Karen Day-Vath             http://SiteKreator.com/karenvath

PRIVATE  WALK

Oh,  to walk along a peaceful path

Where dappled shadows are cast,

Crimson foliage along the edge,

Form a low and colorful hedge.

Sunny spots and then shade;

Nature's autumn on parade.

Marbled pebbles beneath my feet,

I am hurrying to meet my sweet.

Arm in arm we'll stroll along,

This a place where love belongs

And I am transported in bliss

From the touch of a lover's kiss.

                ...ffacer...

THE  PARTY'S  OVER

Artist:  Sunny  Sorensen      Contact:  Use  site form

THE  AFTERMATH

It was a party grand,  spontaneous and not planned,

Let it all hang out;  swinging wild and be damned.

Invite the neighbors in,  join the fun

So long as they bring their own rum.

They danced and sang,  was such a ball,

Wild and crazy,   right off the wall.

And though it was a jubilee bash

It seemed to end with a crash.

Like Cinderella the guests suddenly hurried away.

Each proclaiming duties to tend to next day.

Now the party's over and she is left all alone,

She surveys the mess with an audible groan.

Much dancing has left her with tired feet,

Just part of the aftermath of the party treat;

Empty bottles,  a broken glass,  left-over food.

What happened to that happy party mood?

'Tis true,  the guests were free and full of spunk.

Now she alone must face the leftover junk.

Awe,  to hell with the mess;  mood is dead.

So she stumbles off to her lonesome bed.

                                  ...ffacer...