You Will Grace My Canvas Until I Die
You Will Grace My Canvas Until I Die
By Rick Rucker
You are my “happy place,”
Your style, your curves, your face.
All of them are burned into me,
Now I shall ne’er be free
In the land of your birth,
Rembrandt would have known your worth,
As a model, you would have supplanted all,
Though they might be fair and tall,
They couldn’t match how your beauty does trumpet
Make the Mona Lisa appear a common strumpet!
Walking among us, full of Grace,
A gorgeous figure, and Angel’s face,
You put all the rest to shame,
You even have a lovely name.
Ria seems so very exotic,
Coupled with the rest of you, hypnotic
I hope to immortalize myself,
By placing an artwork on my shelf
That contains a likeness of your face,
My humble attempt to capture your Grace.
By vanity, I have sinned,
I might as well try to draw the wind,
A lowly mortal, such as me,
Has not the eyes to truly see
The ethereal beauty that is yours alone,
Though others would love to have it for their own.
I sense inside of you does dwell,
The peace that makes the World seem well
In these past few magical weeks,
You have given my heart a new language it speaks.
No longer one of fear and loss,
You have allowed me to forever cross
From the land of lonely dread
Where I would have been happily dead
To a land that teems with Hope
Where we might one day elope.
I know I sound as if I’m crazy
And you have me made just a little hazy
Still, you are the lucky one,
Your Earthly adventure has begun
You get to serve, if you choose,
To be an artist’s only muse
I won’t stray, and I won’t lie,
You’ll grace my canvas until I die!
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