Photo Title: Lady and the Goat © Vaggelis FragiadakisVisit his site to see additional photos.
The photographer lives in Berkeley, California, and specializes in
art, portrait, and spontaneous portrait photography.
Photo used with permission from Vaggelis Fragiadakis.
7 comments:
"She's outlived her usefulness," called the new master,
"Take the old cleaning wench out to the pasture."
The servants all heeded and took her by cart
Though it pained them to do it; it tore at their hearts
The servants were troubled, for they could relate
"A lifetime of service; will this be our fate?"
Rising in anger, they captured their lord
And put him to pasture as his just reward
The servants returned with a new lord and master
They serve the old lady the lord put to pasture
Out in the pasture, she stares into the past. Pictures of faces she hasn't seen in god knows when. Smiles and tears and broken dreams. The sound of gentle whispers from the man she loved lying next to her in bed. The smell of her boys clean hair. The feel of soft skin from her daughters hands. Love that once surrounded her. And, death too quick for them all.
Out in the pasture, she sits and waits, and longs for the day when death, too, will come for her.
MANY HAPPY RE"RUNS"
"Put Me Out to Pasture"
Is what the townsfolk did to me.
Because I'm old and gray,
I've become a "liability".
It's a bunch of crap,
I've still got lots of kicks,
So I prepared a little surprise,
I'm also full of tricks.
They really made me mad,
Couldn't be much hotter,
So I slipped a case of ExLax,
In the public drinking water.
GOaT MILK?
I bring my little nanny goat,
To this meadow every day,
She's really quite the stubborn one,
And must have things her way.
You see, she has this ego trip.
She should be analyzed,
But it's the only way that she can claim,
Her milk is "Pasture"ized.
Oh, almost forgot. Michael...excellent poem...ya nailed it!!!
It seemed like only yesterday,
We looked into each others eyes
and
we carved our initials in the tree.
We froliced in the green grass,
we laughed until we cried.
Our dreams began.
I made promises to you
and
you promised to me...
Our love would last forever.
You would never leave me.
But now the tree is gone,
the green grass is no more.
Your heart has stopped it beating.
How can I keep from crying?
I will love you forever.
Where do I go from here.
Beautiful image!
age is far to often potrayed as sorrow.... great image is right!!
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