Fingerprint
A watercolor world resounds within my child mind
Painted lilies in the filed and cloud shapes aloft to find
This world bears your fingerprint for all of your work is signed
Not a thing goes by without a purpose or rhyme within
Each feather gently stroked on the crested brow of a hen
Each mite of bark upon the back of a tree your hand has rend
From the gentle glisten of a new born dew, child of the morn
From a mother swooning her gentle babe, a gentle soul newborn
The ocean filled from your eyes, the grass your coat old and worn
From the wrath of man that fills you, the frigid mountains conceived
That the apple of your eye came from naught, he a fool to believe
One day to be crowned in passion and love, I will wait to recieve
Copyright © Christopher Steven Coan | Year Posted 2010
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