God is the ultimate poet.
His lines writ in every face…
In every cloud trace ‘cross the sky…
‘Tween sighs when lovers embrace…
His poetry is ever cast…
With each spider’s tapestry.
Tis carried ‘pon the breath…
Of every laughing baby.
Poetry is the gift He gives
Granted to some bless-ed few,
To weave a painted picture
With words doth our soul imbue.
For those few, with gift of prose
We know where comes illumination…
Words… the bread and breath of our soul,
Must never lie unfinished in our inspiration.
Photo of my eye, taken c. 2015, Poem © 18 September 2014, by D. Denise Dianaty