All the Splendor
The rose
natures
fairest scent
covering
the valley
pales
compared to the
smell of your
perfume
on a letter.
If Aphrodite
Goddess
of beauty
of love
swift she
devolves into
a wretched hag
given the chance
to love
you.
And Shakespeare
godly master
great creator
of words
dull to me
when I
hear your
sweet voice
calling to me
from the page.
Such is my
truth
the sum of
all the splendor
and more
(though it persists)
will not
ever amount
to one iota
of you.
(click on the pic to preview my poetry book!)
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