If I painted the beauty of your face,
I would paint you in early morning light,
Playing your guitar, dreaming something new,
Like the flowers opening in the spring;
Something like a mother's careful embrace
Wrapping the dreams of children through the night,
Until dawn breaks softly the midnight blue,
And sunlight illuminates everything;
Flowers they picked from your green, garden space,
Music filling the air for our delight,
Like a bird that found its wings and flew
In a moment of joy and blessed grace
Where even strangers can find their respite,
Feeling their hearts washed clean as morning dew.
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Author Notes
This celtic rose sonnet has an interlocking rhyme scheme of abcd abcd abc abc, and is in a little more opened up meter than strict iambic to give it a more natural, conversational tone, much like some of Yeats' sonnets. This poem is dedicated to an old friend and musician, Patience Connor. estory
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