My God

There is no god ‘cept in my heart;

she comes out sometimes in my art.

Sometimes, in the bizarrest ways

she takes my mind and gently plays.

But always she is in my mind

leaving small gifts for me to find.

and every day, within my heart

I know that’s where beauty does start.


About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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