A World To Hold

She lies in truth at rest,
Clothe-less upon the earth.
In sleep she’s still the best
Of all live beauty’s worth.

I look, for great joy’s sake,
To she who’s passed the test
Of art that is not fake
Where beauty lies at rest.

I hardly hear her breathe,
Her heart beats softer still;
And yet, not far beneath
Moves strong the artist’s will.

Her face I do not see,
It’s story does not show;
Imagination’s free
To draw the dream-lined glow.

Her shoulders’ ‘my way’ turn,
Warm back and thighs, express
The unseen hands that burn
The artist’s sketched caress.

She’s here, past stars of gold—
High deed of all life’s best!
And I’ve a world to hold
Where beauty lies at rest.

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