Patricia Cresswell Poet Free verse

If I Were Blind

If I Were Blind

I could see your face
with soft inquisitive fingers
trekking across the hills
and valleys of your physiognomy

you, of course, would sit quietly 
with eyes closed not wanting to
look into my broken mirrors
from which all sign of soul
had escaped long ago.

but I am fool and blinded
by what I see, unable to penetrate
beyond my fingertips into the truth
golden verity of the sweetness
the ardent nature that is you

your face is worn with life
it stops me like a wall
your depth will not catch me so I fear
instead it will demand from me
more than I can ever be
I will be unmasked.

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Sunlite Wanter December 9, 2017 at 10:56 AM Isn't it awful that we so fear to be "known." This is a lovely, lovely poem, Patricia. Sunlite Wanter December 9, 2017 at 10:57 AM I wrote a poem about my blind great aunt, "Aunt Sally is 80" should you like to read it.

Darlene De Beaulieu December 1, 2017 at 8:28 PM Hello Patricia,this poem is great! I have seen a lot of blind people they are trained in how to get around. some of them have seeing eyes dogs. They even learn to read a certain way. Have a niceevening my friend.

Jannie Breedt December 1, 2017 at 12:28 AM Masterclass Patricia. I am also so blind and unaware . There is another dimension where all is plain to see but this one must be a test of sorts, perhaps. Patricia Cresswell December 1, 2017 at 5:53 PM yes I believe so at least we have to work harder, Thank you.

Richard Evans November 22, 2017 at 6:39 PM There is something about a well crafted allegory. It leaves you breathless. Bravo Pat, bravo. Patricia Cresswell November 22, 2017 at 7:03 PM Thank you Richard, and thanks for stopping by to read.

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart November 16, 2017 at 4:16 PM Brilliant beautiful and captivating work Patricia. A fave dear Poetess xomo Patricia Cresswell November 16, 2017 at 5:06 PM Thank you Maureen.

Freddie Robinson Jr. November 16, 2017 at 2:39 PM Powerful and poignant poetry, Pat. We are always blind to our heart's own deceitfulness, for the heart is deceitful above all things. A brilliant poem. An instant fave. Love and joy always.

John Fleming November 15, 2017 at 5:30 PM One of your most powerful poems...it has great beauty associated to it - quite marvelous!! :) john P.s You have two very distinct styles of writing: one becomes almost a part of what you are observing but still remains objectively detached, the other interacts on a far more greater personal level...really rather intriguing. :) Patricia Cresswell November 16, 2017 at 3:21 PM John what you say is true I never thought about it but just wrote. Thanks my dear Poet.

Vermillion Scythe November 14, 2017 at 11:08 PM Nice poem, Patricia.

Line Gauthier November 14, 2017 at 10:22 PM Beautifully melancholic, Patricia. Patricia Cresswell November 16, 2017 at 3:17 PM Thank you line.

Silent One November 14, 2017 at 4:40 PM They say love is blind.. One of my best friends is blind... His hearing and touch is very powerful... Funny how blind people notice more than those who can see.. Excellent write Patricia.. Patricia Cresswell November 14, 2017 at 5:48 PM Yes it is unusual but perhaps part of the explanation is that they do not take any thing for granted as do we sighted. Thank you for your visit and comment.