THE STONE FACED FISH

Another poem from the project I am involved in with an art class in Taunton. This poem is a response to a painting which was in turn inspired by Dream Fragment.
It is getting convoluted isn't it?

I sketched as she told me of her dream:

the cup of tea,

the stone faced fish,

the mulberry leaves set to fall...

my colours were chosen for her alone

but I know she will sigh

then speak slow words like these:

yours is a life lived without metaphor,

guileless you offer me your shoddy

as if it were a gift to give.

I could never love you.

At that point I will cry

then freeze those tears to use on some other woman.

What I like about the poem is the idea of saving tears to use again. I have no idea where it came from though.
The word shoddy refers to wool and rag waste that was used to make cheap woollens. I just looked it up and apparently it is believed to be Yorkshire in origin. I wanted the narrators supposed gifts to be regarded as substandard.
I am not sure it is complete either. I suspect the dialogue needs tightening. Time will tell. It's going into a drawer now for a month or so.
Here's the wondrous Annabelle Chvostek Baby Sleep'Til Sturovo.