It is Writ in the Lines of the Joy on my Face.

And it came to me sitting ensconced and enthralled,
By the light of the late afternoon on these walls,
By the vivid red glow from my latest attempt,
To paint all my passion from a spirit not spent,
For in my long life there are three who held sway,
Whom I truly adored in my gentleman’s way,
Each being special so dear to my heart,
And each having left ‘fore the end of the start,
Each having left with a different method,
Yet each growing tired feeling potently tethered,
By the needs that I have to not squander a moment,
Lest that moment should die in an ignorant torment,
By my drive to ingest every pertinent promise,
For too soon they are gone and I feel that remiss,
So know my three loves you have molded this man,
And each will stay with me to the end of the plan,
Of the path of my life and the lands I will pace,
It is writ in the lines of the joy on my face.

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One Response to “It is Writ in the Lines of the Joy on my Face.”
  1. Mr WordPress says:

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