A Child—Nothing Less




Featured art by Konstantin Makovsky



Featured audio by Vlada Mars. Click here to visit her studio.



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Vlada Mars “Innocence”





Beneath the cloak of life’s digression
Something made a sweet impression
His was the heart of a child, nothing less
Some days it ran wild and on others depressed
For the burden abreast of his shoulders was moulded from clay fired in kiln—of unwilling arrest
Pressed upon will with the seal of doom wreathed
Appeared little left to contest


Beneath the grope of insolvable stress
His was the heart of a child, nothing less
Had he exited stage and careered to the left
Then a negative stain, his maintain would have bid to address
Beneath the raven’s gaze, amidst the haze of recollection
It was made as clear as crystal his direction


The black mist found a clearing as he neared the river quay
No apprehension rearing, with no teardrops left to wellaway
Here within this sacred place, his mask of disgrace fell away
Revealing the face of a child, nothing less
As fine and as bright as the first light of day


Broad smile attested to calm in his breast
While no qualm he suppressed
For the music of chance charmed embrace
Hardly a heartbeat escaped unexpressed of sobriety, benignity and grace
Here within this blessèd place, his vestment claimed no dressing
Naked to the elements—sweet renascence caressing


The river wild his sanctuary
Ran red in affectionate streams
His was the soul of a child, nothing less
And comprised an expressionist’s dreams
Here he beguiled at the wonderment of theme
Unforeseen of eyes deprived by sight less keen
Bedecked in the jewels that the cruel left behind
For they set far more mindful a scene


Aware of the air undeclared them to breathe
Choked in ensnare of chaired reason obscene
Appeared little left to suggest evergreen
For nevermore was evermore decreed
His was the breath of a child, nothing less
Hung in clouds e’er profoundly at ease
For here within the whispered mist, unleashed
The secrets of the sweeping trees


Beneath the raven’s gaze, amidst unchanging recollection
His wide eyes claimed the favour of direction
His was the brave of a child, nothing less
For the courage encouraged the steep of each breath
As he kneel’d at the quayside
Inclined to reflect
The day became of night, his blind eyes savoured to refresh
For here within the river wild
His was the faith of a child, nothing less






Richard Charles Stevens


Keeper of The Crimson Quill




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  1. “Bedecked in the jewels that the cruel left behind
    For they set far more mindful a scene”

    The entire poem delivers a wonderful message, Richard, but these lines stand out to me. These are wise words, and I love them.

    1. Thank you, Ivy. For cherry picking two lines that stood out to me also when writing them. It is no less than I have come to deeply cherish from my reflection. We see through the very same eyes, My Wild Artist Brave.

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