The backdrop has come to light,
and so the story begins;
our curiousity it will incite,
and the characters we will fill in…

It starts out with a rough sketch,
all the lines ragged at first;
soon they are indelibly etched,
and all of the scenes well-rehearsed…

These eager fingers tremble with promise
as they strive to form a picture that’s true;
inspired by the words and the myths,
which sprang forth from the deep recesses within you…

How do I capture the nuances and shades,
to make this picture complete?
Its message will surely persuade,
its ending a taste of defeat…

As I trace the initial crude outline,
I become excited and anxious;
Should my strokes be broad or fine
as my brush caresses this lush canvas?

I borrow colours from the palette of an intense sunset,
to enhance the subtle hue of your velvety skin;
the warmth they inspire will thereafter beget,
all of the finer details which lie therein…

Cherry blossoms will arouse the blush of your cheeks
as after an enticing whisper nuzzles your ear;
as the tip of this brush only seeks
to express all in you which I revere…

How will I capture that which induces
the sparkle of light in your eyes?
An inviting glow so diffuse,
the allure of delight it deftly implies…

And as I move to the pout of your lips,
for a moment my resolve wavers;
a sweetness too robust to resist,
a richness one dreams to savour…

Unless I am completely aware
what inspires the crinkle in your smile;
Can I show the laughter it’s wont to share,
and represent the moments it beguiles?

When the portrait is finally revealed,
copied verbatim from my dreams;
a mystery is no longer concealed,
but is anything truly as what it seems?

Does it matter how much of it is what we perceive,
and how much of it is what we construct?
So long as we are willing to receive,
and our feelings we no longer obstruct…

Although we have never actually met
or even spoken on the phone;
you adroitly take me to places that
I could never venture all on my own…

Time and distance can take their toll,
for they eventually lead to confusion;
can you truly nourish your soul
with desire for what may be mere illusion?

When the story finally concludes,
and we say farewell to that final chapter;
Ultimately does it matter what is real or created,
or is the experience we have shared all that matters?

In the long run we can only be
ourselves as much as is true;
You may never be exactly what I see,
But really all you will ever need to be is just you…

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4 thoughts on “wistful vignette…

    1. thanks…i wrote that over the last three days…sitting by the water waiting for a sunrise which never really occurred gave me some time to reflect and got the words flowing…i think i will alternate between ones i’ve already written and new material…it gives me something more to do when the sun isn’t cooperating…we had some awesome fog last night…i just love when the fog socks the city in…so mysterious…you know what is out there but you can’t see it at all…

      1. Darn sun *shakes fist at the sky*. haha. And the fog is amazing. I remember hiking up a mountain in Malibu and the entire city and surroundings was filled with fog. Felt like I was in a different world… a marshmallow dreamland. I have never been able to recapture that feeling or moment again, but I will always have the memories.

        1. fog is actually very common in the winter here…we have had it last all day for the entire week…it is like being in a dream…or in a cocoon…it is similar to spending time in my head as I am wont to do…it is amazing when you are on the mountain above the fog looking on the city…there are some amazing pics online of vancouver in the fog…

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