Painting a portrait with hidden beauty,
Portraiture means, sometimes,
silent poetry,
And other times means blossoming flowers.
Poetical words like flowers.
His tears were like drops of rain,
tears in the rain.
Sweet thoughts are coming to light.
Become a creative and insightful reality.
His malignant fever means writing poems,
Creative obsessions and music,
shining dreams in the night.
Make the weight of his loneliness creep inside.
Behind his soul's door,
always the loving souls
Can hear his musical notes...
His poetical lines are sometimes immense.
Make the readers find new thoughts.
Need to see the eyes of the Father,
In a place where
All souls stand as equals,
And where forever the eyes can see.....
Poem by Marieta Maglas
Dedicated to our poet Eyan Desir
I agree that it is so interesting and very true as well. I really felt this poem.A good dedication :) Thanks for writing such a poem! ! Merna
I told in my message I sent you to your poemhunter mail I will read your nice poem I am sorry I was wrong it is not just nice it is soooooooooooo nice really it wonderful hope you the best go on Naji
From: Luke Easter (Cleveland, Ohio United States; Male; 60) To: Marieta Maglas Date Time: 3/23/2010 8: 03: 00 PM (GMT -6: 00) Subject: Re: Re: Re: hello (Tell a story more like this) For Every Time His Eyes See… Painting beautiful words or painting with words, On an ugly portrait with hidden beauty unheard, Because painting is sometimes our silent poetry, While only through rhyme & verse will all agree. This blossoming is a miracle jaded in self pretense, Simply beauty beyond my words used to re-invent, Truly we can be filled with a love that’s the same, Our tears watering flowers like food from the rain. Floating in a river of time smooth like a cube of ice, It melts with sweet vanilla thoughts coming to light, As creative & insightful thoughts, form in the mind, My witness testifying to the truth in him I will find. Cascading a high rainbow degree of soulful honesty, Not frustrated by living with a faith filled spirituality, Writings born from her obsessions with music insight, Memories frolicking in his head throughout the night. Feeling the weight of loneliness almost creeping inside, Behind the earthly realm so mortal souls need not hide, Her joyful lines are the flashing pools of colored light, Being at her side becomes a Shangri-La, like paradise. Behind eyes of the heavenly Father all souls stand equal, As no one composes anything greater than God’s sequel, I graciously dedicate this piece to Eyan Desir the scribe, A member in good standing of our family’s poetic tribe. So who penned this written testimony ever so graciously? And the romantic title, “For Every Time His Eyes See…? ” Marieta Maglas painted this masterpiece of hidden youth, A witness sworn in secrecy & testifying only to the truth.
great imagination, beautiful intrepration of a painting....a poem after all. i had all the money some day i woud but all the paintings.
Really a good composition.Worth reading.Thanks for inviting me to read your nice poem.
Mary, this poem is very nice of you... You hv a truly wonderful idea, yeah - for every time his eyes see-. Lovely poem
This is very true! Like marieta, Eyan creativity in words is channeling and Marieta is always surprising. this is a very good one, as a dedication to a deserving one. Have a nice day! Thanks for inviting.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
dear marie.......outstanding poem, and the first four lines are exquisite.a beautiful tribute, straight from the soul.loved it! .......ritty