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The Art of Love
by   Venus

Sometimes his love was a song,
a tender melody
Whenever I would close my eyes
it would play for me

Other times it was a painting,
with colors pure and bright
Whenever I would see it,
my heart would take flight

It was also a dance
with a pulsating beat
A slow, steady rhythm
full of passion and heat

Although he is gone now
I still think of his love as a work of art
and it will stay forever
right here in my heart
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Poem ID: 8464   Poem Posted: 10/14/1998
Viewed: 25460  Voted On: 292  E-mailed: 90  Commented On: 6
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Copyright , 10/9/98, Venus  all rights reserved by the author.
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