Eveline Braak

Eveline Braak

Her face is Bergmanesque, she paints like Calder might,
Had he grown around Utrecht. She doesn’t blame
When men trip and fall around her. She smiles, asks
Questions, searches for their souls and then decides.

As a traveler, unlikely to walk the route again, I
Had a chance. As a guide for 30 days the chance
Evaporated due to possible entanglements. How’s that
For Dutch? One hundred percent tolerant, but private.

Those “other fish” we hear about often swim away.
My heart swells and drops like tides every day.
But this is just November, Christmas sets in soon: the day
Those blood-drenched barons try not to act like goons.

When paint flows like a waterfall, love gushes off the edge.
No one knows when life will end, but I make this pledge:
That no matter what you need, no matter where you are
I will find a way to nudge you toward your highest dream.

She poses for the camera, she smiles at football games,
She has the magic that I seek. Eveline comes from royalty.
The type that work the land. Anyone who finds her
Will fall in love. A creative fish may one day hook her yet.

Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2002. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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