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Frozen
Were I a poet,
who's words shone like spun silk,
I could never properly capture your beauty -
words on paper too mundane to encapsulate your splendor.
Paper is dead- lifeless - and
you are alive, forever, in my heart.
Your image, frozen in memory,
eternal, ageless, never changing;
Perfect as-is.
Oh! How I wish it were possible
to share your magic with
those who are unfortunate enough
to never experience your love,
For it can ne'er truly be understood
through pen and paper.
A love poem, but for what? Up to interpretation, but I didn't write it with a person in mind.