Tuesday, 20 June 2023

Poem: Suspected Masterpiece



A corner was all that remained of the painting

- a luminous lily with its shadow on the pond below.

No-one cared enough to pay for an appraisal.

Who could cash in on a mere fragment? So none now would know...

if the fire's victim that day

had actually owned a Monet.


He'd found it as an old man, stored deep in his loft.

Of a sudden everyone in the neighbourhood was his friend -

though behind their hands they all whispered with some glee:

"What if it was stolen or was a counterfeit in the end? 

He is most to be pitied, they say,

if it is not a true Monet.


What will he do with all the money from the sale?"

What generosities owed and impatiently expected?

All had jealous motive and opportunity 

None were accused by the police because all were suspected.

And he was most despised in that way

because it was a true Monet.


06/2023




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