Poetry With Me

Write about two characters who meet and/or fall in love in a museum.

_{Posted in Romance on Mar 15, 2024}

Https://Blog.Reedsy.Com/Creative-Writing-Prompts/.

The only sounds were the light clicking of heels and hushed whispers that echoed through the room as she stood in front of the massive painting that hung on the wall in front of her. The frame must have been solid gold and every brush stroke looked like a memory that she could only imagine the artist had once envisioned. Did the artist see this landscape in front of him and have a feeling that it must be painted, that someone must see what he had once seen?

Her gloved hands slide slowly over her fan as she feels the warmth gather in her face, the emotions overcoming her sensibility for a moment longer than she expected. She gently opens her fan and begins to sweep the cool air around her and up to her face as she continues to take in the scenery from the painting.

His eyes catch a glimpse of her from across the room, she is standing alone unmoving as others glide past her to view other parts of the exhibit. He wonders how long she has been staring at the painting of the countryside. Is she recalling memories of living there as a child or of being with someone in the grassy field covered in a pink and orange sunset sky?

Jealousy seems to creep up his spine and his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he realizes sweat is gathering at his temples. He shakes his mind free of the imagery and walks up to the woman quietly maneuvering his way through the crowded room.

She feels eyes on her as he appears beside her and the trance the painting held her in is broken, if only for a moment.

She looks up at him and smiles softly and returns to gaze at the painting again.

“Is this your favorite?” He asks in a tone that is barely above a whisper as he leans closer to her ear.

“No.” she says quietly and keeps her eyes locked ahead of her.

He is taken aback by her answer and is curious to know about this mysterious woman who has eyes that shine like emeralds and a smile that is covered by velvety pink lips.

“Would you like to tell me why this painting has you so enthralled?” He asks.

She feels his warm breath on her neck and she’s grateful that her long curls are swept to the side closest to him so that he can not see the goosebumps that have risen with every syllable.

“The brush strokes, they are long and purposeful in some places like here,” She gestures to the flowing grass that looks as if its blowing in the wind and not standing still, “But around this area where you can see the edge of the lake they are short and abrasive as if the artist was upset or tired there is just so much feeling poured into it.” Her fingers linger in the air as she points toward the lake displayed in the painting and then slowly drops back down to her side. She is graceful and he is smitten. He sees what she means about the strokes changing which cause it to look as though the water could jump out and splash you.

“And what about here?” he asks while pointing toward the small house hidden in the forest behind the tall grass.

“The way the sun seems to poke out slowly here in the corner,” She gestures, “Reminds me of warm summer evenings and picking flowers, the brush strokes are softer here but also darker, like a hidden memory something he didn’t know if he wanted to share with the viewer. I can almost feel the warmth of the sun and smell the airs summer breeze scented with the hint of wildflowers.”

She sighs and his heart beats faster as he takes in the image. They both smile to themselves when the museum begins to announce that they are closing, and all must make their way to the exit doors.

“It was lovely meeting you miss…?” He said as he turned toward her his eyes pleading for more but sufficing that he would be satisfied with just a name.

“Mrs. Carolina Stern.” She said as her eyes met his in a way that made his heartbreak, her southern accent deep and charming she continued, “Widowed. I’m afraid.”

His heart jumped at the information, and he smiled as he offered her his arm that she took it without hesitation. She looked up into his handsome face with kind brown eyes and a dark black beard that matched his hair. Hair that was drawn back out of his face except for one bit that fell forward as he looked down at her. It was in that moment that they both realized that soon she would carry his last name.

Want to Read more on this story… Comment below!

Thank you to Reedsy.com for providing the prompt that inspired this short story.