Portrait of a lover

I was always good at finding treasures

Some hidden in the most unlikely places

I saw him in the street corner – a lost boy

Looking about the world like yesterday was a painful place

Tomorrow a hopeless place


I was the painter with a brush made of silk

And my subject had a story that I could freeze on my canvas

So I painted the portrait of a lover

Little by little, my fingers became the brush

That explored his features till I could paint him from memory alone…


This did not belong in the exhibition

It was mine to keep, to hold and to treasure

He was mine alone…


About sensoria300

I harness words, I thrive on them. I tell stories. I am dreamer, sometimes a poet but mostly I am a Game of Thrones fanatic. Lady Olenna, Lyanna Mormont and Arya Stark are my spirit animals.

Posted on September 6, 2014, in Poetic Justice. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Another precious piece of art in words. Beautifully written!

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