When a Poet tries to Paint

I could not paint you with my bare hands
Art is not my forte;
it was never mine-

but how i would love to paint
a portrait of you
somewhat like a (modest) La Gioconda

a cold but lovely work of art
an Italian standard of beauty-
a portrait close to perfection

with you, it's not the smile
nor the perfect set of eyes,
not your pointed nose-

for an artist,
it is how he connects with the character
and the beauty that exists beyond...

how i would love to see you
in a framed canvass-
devoid of ambiguity

(I could not paint you tonight, nor the years after)
because Art is more than imagination-
it exceeds profundity.

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Anonymous said...

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Damsel said...

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