Lost for Words
www.michaelwalsh.com
When love is adoration how it tears your peace apart,
How best describe her beauty evades a poet’s heart.
The bard must search in vain for word,
That best describes such beauty spurred,
Subtle then portrayal be the words that match her true.
When lips are lush as nectar, when eyes would stop the breath,
Then sin would bring to sorrow, the lip-sweet kiss of death,
For when his soul is tortured by,
A wraith so Godly blessed,
The bard has met his match in her,
That never gives him rest.
When poets search in vain for words and phrase may not exist,
To better tell the world of lips by others sweetly kissed,
Elusive though description be,
The search will never let him be,
Illusion shall it better be if he would sleep in peace.
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