Gardens Of Poetic Verse
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You charm me with honor, pride, grace and soul
with heartfelt lines, yet worldly told,
contained within your sweeping rhymes
are words of life enthroned in time.
Your accent soft of sadness born
carried on foreign wings of song
with woodwind notes that linger air
then flowing downward in a tear.
And may that teardrop never dry
may kindest feelings fill your eye
your lips redeemed by simple smiles,
knowledge, truth and human trials.
Unknown to you, you gave me wings,
in accent tones and wordless strings,
a smile perhaps one day bestowed
embedded deeply in my prose.
In gardens of poetic verse
what is expression, but secret thirst;
when words are all I drink to live,
when words are all I have to give.
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