Wednesday, April 27, 2016

On bouquets, rosy and dame mine*

Finding you looking at those bouquets of Roses,
Sitting up close to them,
Looking at them
A painted, colored scene
That i always do bear
Deep into my heart,
Is so warming ,

But then, i sometimes think,
Which is more of BEAUTY,.
You Isabel, or those bouquets,

Really wonder i,
Looking at you
Painted scene,
Right in heart mine,
Which is more fragrant
You, isabel, or those roses,

But then,
As we are here,
For an eterni~tie,
And as you have given me
Such much of writes, poesy,
Paintings, music, violins,
Gituar strumming,
summerly springs,

I think Thou Art
Surpass all,
Bouquets of flowers rosy
Would have carried
No meaning,
This life itself would not
Have brought any thing,

Had nor You been there,
O my dame, my Isabel fair. (*Note: the painting attached is received by me from a friend mine, as a Gift.
#isabel: a fictional character created by me,)

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