Poem and painting by Gladys Bedminster

The following texts are taken from a collection titled “L’Ovale splendeur” (Oval Splendor)

In the Splendid Oval, published in 2013, I wanted to explore another dimension of femininity. It is a unique body in my bibliography. It also the singular expression of rare and happy moments. The collection’s themes are certainly classical but also found in works from other genres.

The pursuit of and attempt to understand the other person remains the basis of all relationships ; as for
understanding my wound, it originated from long ago, probably from childhood.

Two Hands
There are hands that don’t know how to love
or how to caress
Lost in a maze of doubts, of “how do we do it?”
These hands don’t know how to give
And they receive with an embarrassed smile, choked
gratitude

These are hands that remain cold
Even when beaten by passion
They look at it sheepish, awkward and limp
Useless next to their amputated body
In opening our eyes we realize
That they are the wings of birds coated in oily film/ oil-covered birds/oiled birds

Glued down by doubts
Suffocating in abandoned desires
If I caressed your face and body
It’s because life never left mine
I know now that it is too late
Your hands have long died

An Hibiscus
A golden hibiscus lives in my soul
It is Guadeloupe under the spell
Of a shoeless little princess
Who never lost her shimmer

Our Love
Our love was a fleeting mirror
It went lost into the ice

New Dawn
I love the curve of your hips
The water in your mouth
And the warmth of your hands
I love it when you scream again
You do not want me to say I love
About your breasts I know everything
About your loins I know but the movement
You tell me stay here
I tell you come here
I love your eyes, their oval splendor
The fineness of your hands
Velvet of your skin
I want to drink   to the dregs
Tonight I love you
More than ever