It was like a painting

That I could not forget

In the streets of Paris

Where artists paint

In passionate fervour.

The stark shape of lines

Bold colors that speak

Of the creator’s confidence.

The play of contrasts

In the light & dark.

The arresting silhouette

Almost molded to form.

An awe-inspiring design.

Displayed in the window

It caught my eye…

The dress was mesmerizing

No, not in a delicate way

It was quite the opposite.

It spoke to me

Of a certain power play

It had me thinking

Who will don it?

Power in a dress?

A dress can do much for your confidence

You can own the dress and the world …

With the right kind of dress.

Would you agree?

And tell me…

When I started the above poem with the line

It was like a painting…

Did you think it could be about a dress ?

If you did…

Did you think of it as something that flowed with beauty?

And what else would your imagination associate with a beautiful painting, I would  love to know.

Savvy