0 SECOND RATE

If I were an artist
I would be only
second rate
for how could I
imitate
or recreate
your beauty
when you're more dazzling
than maple leave
at the height
of autumn's glory,
more graceful
than a swan
preening slowly
for her mate,
more serene
than a perfectly
still
summer garden,
more vibrant
than hostile waves
pummeling
a rugged shore,
yet softer
than a newborn's
first
weary sigh.
How could I
capture
this essence of you-
when it is you
who captivates
and makes
mere second rate
all
that is
already
perfect.

--Sylvia B.,  56