Category : Poems
Sub Category : N/A
Here sits the hands of a squire.
Where the poetry written has heart.
The type that deep within a piece of my soul is wired.
No matter the beat, or rhyme it's here to play a part.
From soulful cry, one will read why,
Where a portrait is painted upon sheets of white.
The paint lies within your imagination to put right.
Some would say it's meant to bring wrongs to the light.
However for all that I write,
the words flowing from mind to paper.
The meaning and portrait shall be what you see...
Copyright © 2013 Dell Anne Raye
All Rights Reserved