Love Poem: What It's Worth

What It's Worth

           Ever his little girl ...
               She knew her daddy, suitably
                 The demons, the defeats, the drudgery and dreams
                  (Dreams, deep and delirious as substances demanded)
                 No year of hers was sans disappointment or broken vow
               His life was a Stradivarius without a master hand
           The edge of creative brilliance, rusted by tears
       Potential of a rare and exquisite temper
   Ravaged by emotional paralysis and parody
 Little to redeem, and naught meant for pride
Still, love saw fit to hold his hand, cooling
 As his last breath left the day
   Only her lips, the grace ...
       To kiss his eyes.






~ 3rd Place ~  in the "Strand No 680 Any Form Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.