Were I an artist, Lydia, I <br />Would paint you as you merit, <br />Not as my eyes, but dreams, descry; <br />Not in the flesh, but spirit. <br /> <br />The canvas I would paint you on <br />Should be a bit of heaven; <br />My brush, a sunbeam; pigments, dawn <br />And night and starry even. <br /> <br />Your form and features to express, <br />Likewise your soul's chaste whiteness, <br />I'd take the primal essences <br />Of darkness and of brightness. <br /> <br />I'd take pure night to paint your hair; <br />Stars for your eyes; and morning <br />To paint your skin-the rosy air <br />That is your limbs' adorning. <br /> <br />To paint the love-bows of your lips, <br />I'd mix, for colors, kisses; <br />And for your breasts and finger-tips, <br />Sweet odors and soft blisses. <br /> <br />And to complete the picture well, <br />I'd temper all with woman, <br />Some tears, some laughter; heaven and hell, <br />To show you still are human.<br /><br />Madison Julius Cawein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-portrait-6/
