Thy beauty cannot be committ'd to verse,
Nor bound by word, eith'r written or spoken.
Though I attempt, so in vain, to worship thee,
None can showeth thee mine truest devotion.
I forget not thy visage, nor thy kind words,
And I carry thee with me in mind.
Thy, liketh a rose amongst th' thorns o' life,
A diamond only held by th' blind.
I'm but a broth'r of th' quill, an antiquated rogue,
Afeard of a lifetime of hearts bewra'y.
But thy true love quells mine own heart's contempts,
So with thee, my heart will stay…
About the Creator
Mat Barnsley
I strive to make sense of the world through writing. I break it apart, twist it, and bend it until it reflects new light. I invite you to see the world cast through my written stained-glass windows.
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