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France Jodoin

Oils on linen

A print of a vermillion foot
After the novels, the teacups and the skirts that trail along the floor
Hidden under coral islands
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
I remember a slice of lemon and a bitten macaroon
If the lady and gentleman whish to take their tea in the garden
My window pane like a garden of frost
Rafters of satin and roof or stone
Run softly till i end my song
She smoothed her hair and put a record on the gramophone
Till the wind shakes a thousand whispers
After the novels, the tea cups and the skirts that trail along the floor
A print of vermillion foot and more i cannot tell
After the novels, after the skirts that trail along the floor
Do i dear eat a peach
Enough to take your step and find your foothold
My dwelling is the shadow of the night
No gramophones, no telephones and no Citroën
On the hill, on the other side, a storm
Return gently at twilight, gently go at dawn
Towards the door we open into the rose garden
Where the merchants were the kings
There is no gramophones, no two-seaters and no citroen
Hidden under the dove's wing
Laughter tinkled among the tea cups
The golden fog that robs its back upon the window panes
Summer laid her supple glove
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet
Put your shoes at the door and prepare for life
Que vous êtes joli! Que vous me semblez beau!
I have known the eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase
Down silent courts and secret passages
I remember a slice of apricot pie and a bitten macaroon
The silken girl bringing sherbet
There is a time for the wind to brake the loosened pane
Inhale the different dawn
Between the ivory gates
Heaven below, heaven above obscured with ruddier blue
Water in the distance nodding approval
The quiet-colored end of evening
If the lady and the gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden
Disturbing the dust in a bowl of rose leaves
Do I dare eat a pear
If it rains, we shall play a game of chess
Squinting a little as automn spills from the skies
They glide like dancers into the wide hall
And the footman sat at the dining table
Be born and think
I will make you a palace of blue days at sea
Step lightly on this narrow spot
The notion of some infinitely gentle thing
Thinking of Whistler's Mother
Tripping by in high-heeled ribboned shoes
Waiting for a knock upon the door
A cloud withdrew from the sky
A sky blue as forget-me-nots
Hope is this thing with feathers
I heard the beat of the centaur's hoofs
My window pane is a garden of frost
The uncertain hour before the morning
Through the remembered gate
In a wilderness of mirrors
Présence de l'absence
Run softly until i end my song
The days are not long enough
The shade of passing thoughts
Series of sea studies no. 75
Series of sea studies no. 76
Series of sea studies no. 77
I shall wear grey flannel trousers
Time yet for a hundred indecisions
A silver dollar from a whole inside my vest
Thin fading dreams by day
Tempted by the fashionable quays
Shadows hold their breath
Between one June and another September
I remember that time and wish you had sat there
Muddy feet that press to early coffee stands
Put your shoes at the door and prepare for life
No two-seaters, no Citroen, no Rolls-Royce
Pensive while she dreams awake
I shall sit here, serving tea to friends
Hidden under the dove's wing
The jade king and the blue pebbles
Promenade by the sea
Memory stirring with spring rain