For Maura
The love we share might rate no beauty prize
Aesthetics playing servant to its plot
Seen best through finger blinds drawn cross the eyes
A love festooned in Hallmark rhymes it's not
Still we alone stood witness at its face
The provenance of each disfig'ring weal
Inflicted wounds our tongues dare not retrace
Kept moving on and left the past to heal
For love is our reward for knowing such
That self-survival is a pauper's end
Without your love I'd not have learned that much
The richness of my life's to comprehend
Love's beauty's lies not open but at heart
You are my depth, my love my work of art
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