Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Gonna miss her .. while she is away

Passion’s Masterpiece

Picasso’s brush has never painted so true,
As when I brush across your skin,
The love written is mightier,
Than words by Shakespeare’s pen,
Beethoven’s opus cannot rival,
The crescendo of our love,
Colored more boldly,
Than the rainbow above;

Even the finest poet’s words
Cannot contain,
Cannot explain,
Without refrain,
The passion in our touch.

No melodious composition rivals its sweetness,
No orchestra has played so fine,
No fruit has so tempted the palette,
No grapes have ever yielded a greater wine,

Like the soft warm summer rain,
Your love
Completely throughout is your touch.

I am soaked,
to the bone.

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 26, 2003

1 comment:

TammyJ said...

I remember when you started this poem.. It has always been one of my favorites of your poems.. She is gonna miss you as well my love..