The beauty, your eyes do glean, Is but a reflection of your soul within. The ways of this world, you define; So exquisite a manner, you do it. Succinctly, each echo you describe; The leaves of wailing trees, you notice; The blowing breeze, you hear; Even the boisterous laughter of kids, Before my eyes, you limn and unfold, Oh so wondrously--oh so marvelously! Entirely enthralled, I am, With the naive simplicity you employ, As tale after prodigious tale Unravels from those luscious-looking lips. Ah! How peaceful it seems To reside in those eyes that smile. Perchance, persuade you, I must, To recount my traits, as well? Mayhap if you do, I'd feel half as loved As these subjects descried by you. "Ode To The Artist" The beauty, your eyes do glean, Is but a reflection of your soul within. The ways of this world, you define; So exquisite a manner, you do it. Succinctly, each echo you describe; The leaves of wailing trees, you notice;
