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Maquillage

Your precious youthful portrait you polish,
Till thy cheeks dye rose and yellow seems gold.
Seeking praise her truth she shall embellish,
Concealing blemish under manifold
Brushes in prayer for brief perfection:
“Make lush my lashes, allow my eyes allure,
 Veil in vanity this unloved complexion,
Feature me anew to comely contour.”
Who fed her the lie that her flaws were foes?
Who whispered she’d die unless she attain
A visage pure as those in heaven’s host,
Wherefore she sees her face and can’t complain.
     Pretty pictures indeed a frame deserves;
     Artless love, she ought learn, no mask can earn.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 8/30/2016 4:47:00 PM
Another stunning piece...much enjoyed
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Pariah Love
Date: 9/1/2016 11:03:00 AM
Truly appreciate the support, Tim!
Date: 8/25/2016 11:29:00 PM
An excellent sonnet, Pariah. I love sonnets, especially Shakespearean sonnets. You have written this lovely poem in a true Shakespearean style with depth of emotion which I love in poetry. A7 and into my favorites. T.J
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Pariah Love
Date: 9/1/2016 11:03:00 AM
Gracias, Teppo.