Epilogue



Jolie Laide

There she hangs, his masterpiece and her own,

Immortalised in paint, painted over until,

A finished moment masks all that went before.


This Jolie Laide, new illusion of truth,

breaks the old mirror of imagined beauty and,

Up rise a confluence of feelings


As we stand before it.

Kurt

  Troubled soul in a landscape, Muted colours, soft, open strokes, Sometimes wild, He paints for love,  For life, For hope  And tries to reb...