The Painter
Once I was told of a painter's life
Not one of fame, nor of strife
His heart applied colors, in loving tribute
His favorite subject was his wife
Though many paintings, left his side
His favorite ones covered, seemed to reside
In his Seventies he bared his lifelong love
Over one hundred works of his beautiful bride
If I lived to create works of art to you
Would you acknowledge, would you approve?
If I exposed my heart through oils or pen
Would you carefully guard my feelings true?
For the canvas I don't want to touch
If I cannot cherish it, forever such
Your beauty I see, I could not bear
Losing once I have felt your touch
Like the painter I long to honor you
With my heart pour countless poems to you
And when we are old, I will invite all
To read of a lifelong love so true
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