Alone, in that lyrical silence of your unperturbed mind,
you are so tender, vulnerable, warm, innocent, lovely.
The seasons move you inside or outside awhile. Now spring is in the wind;
just you, and that lyrical silence of your unperturbed mind.
I hear your smiling hum as though bells of distant inspiration chimed
as you set inspiration to brush to palette to canvas to art. All I could sense
was you, in this lyrical silence of your unperturbed mind.
You make me gallant, and tender and lovely.