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Futility
by Richard VinceI wish I could paint a picture
Of her, to show her how
Beautiful she is.
But I am a man of words,
So I will continue with my
Futile quest to write
Something that will
Do her justice.
There have been many
Attempts already, and I foresee
A great many more as
Months become years.
All will inevitably yield
The same result: for how
Can sufficient words
Possibly exist?
The closest I can come
To describing her is
To say I cannot.
02/08/2009 Posted on 02/12/2009
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 02/12/09 at 02:35 AM Futility indeed. That last stanza sums it up nicely. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 02/17/09 at 10:16 PM Oh, but I do hope you continue to try. What comes of it is such breathtaking beauty! *sigh* |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 03/23/09 at 03:42 PM A piece not anchored to a location or an event? Such is the nature of beauty I guess -- beyond place and time.
A classic example to illustrate the impotence of words :) |
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