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Lost Portraits
I painted portraits of you in my heart
till' dark clouds allowed pouring rain to fall
washed away paintings hung that fell apart
to leave my heart's chamber an empty hall
my love for you held portraits that I hung
now a darker place with its vacant walls
where my love's dust becomes a wormwood dung
when love died slowly in pain-filled thralls
this chamber, this hall, now a silent place
that's shrouded by a darkness of morass
when vanished portraits left a lonely space
where doors are closed and no one may trespass
For all my painted portraits I will weep
When I find them in my dreams when I sleep
Copyright ©
Frederic Parker
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