The Essence
Swashbuckler's

By Dave Franzwa © 2007

The poets of old, using words tried to mold
Perfect sonnets of love that was true,

They were good at their craft
Yet their best final draft,

Couldn't capture the essence of you.

They would speak of smooth skin and of eyes that could win,
Any heart with an ounce of desire,

But their verses seem stale,
And their phrases grow pale,

In the light of the glow from your fire.

Find no fault that they failed, for their minds must have railed
Just as mine does when trying to say,

In a way that affirms,
With the simplest of terms,

That your smile is what turns night to day.

This poet, though clever, will not give up, ever,
The quest for a word-painted view,

Of the exquisite bliss,
Of one solitaire kiss,

Or the joy living life next to you.

Happy Valentine's Day - Dave Franzwa ~ The Swashbuckler