Post in: Poesy / - by - Feb 11, 2018

Canvas This is an empty page waiting for the words to fill My canvas where I can paint my soul

The same that all have used keys or pen or quill With artistry they commanded for their love to know.

I will use what strokes I have my feelings display

And in the eyes of the reader interpret my intent If, in these lines, lament a love too little come my way

They can, at least, serve to show by Heaven sent.

A poet scribed that, at least, his love will live in his rhyme

The portrait he drew would always in his canvas live

So, the best this blank slate gives us is only Time

But, never as faithful as when your fleshy rendering give.

So, I will paint this page with another classic take To hang in the hallowed halls such love always preserves

That the elemental ecstasy we feel when our love make

The greatest artist only to convey its essence serves.

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