verses

And now let us peek inside this artist's mind
who scribbles with his pencil endearing lines
all through the night regardless of time
thinking of someone and comes up with rhymes
but let's disregard his talents, if such
for this wanting artist is wanting not much
but to hold the hand of his subject in verses
of which if he sees, his spirit rejoices

he tosses and turns on the bench he calls bed
for something is missing in his heart and his head
he dreams of her frequent in his many a lonely slumber
of taking her hand, vowing nothing can ever sunder
he wakes in stir to find it just a dream
that in his anxiety, he swallows a scream

with a lit cigarette in sleepless nights
he writes on and on, he writes and writes
about a space in his heart so vast and wide
and there, lives a lady, spirited and wild
and across the land and open seas
across tall mountain and majestic trees
lives an old young artist as crazy as she
but she is more loving, much loving than he

she lives to love and be loved by a man
that she reaches and reaches as far as she can
to hold him and touch him and give him her heart
to have and to hold, 'till death do they part
she gave him her all, heart and soul they made love
and let no man sunder the love they have wove'
she wakes in despair and lets out a silent scream
caused by the discovery of it being a dream

she misses his warmth and his hugs and embraces
she thinks of their love and life and kisses
she feels low and lonely without him
that she grabs her guitar and sings, just sings
about love and devotion and a wondrous place
where a young man lives around splendor and grace
this man was an artist of love and faith
and writes about a lady and her love so great

and now let us peek inside this artist's mind
who scribbles with his pencil endearing lines...

-Orville “chubby” Basas