She was conceived
in poetry & written words,
She was created in
song & in great Arias sung,
She was nurtured in
music of orchestra &choirs,
She grew from painting
hand & palette of hues,
She was embroidered
in silk & in delicate stitch.
She was the ode, the
sonnet & the verse of love,
She was the anthem,
hymn, the Gregorian chant,
She was the violin,
the drum & sweet plucked harp,
She was the masterpiece
painted upon chapel dome,
She was the raiment
of velvet, far too fine to attire.
She was merely perfection,
within all called beauty,
She was the balm &
calm, within this troubled world,
She was the expression,
of all that´s of anything worth,
She was to all mankind,
all he searches & daily seeks,
She was, is &
always will be, perfection within his soul.
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