Paint You With Words

I wonder what else I could do tonight
to get your attention while I sit and write.
I need a model, someone to draw
not with paint, no not at all.
But with my mind, my pen and my hand. 
I will draw you with words the very best that I can.
But please forgive me if I fail to show
your beauty and grace, your translucent glow.
I fumble with words to describe such a sight
as your body silhouetted by the full moon light.
Your shape and your curves they capture my mind
stealing from me my powers to combine
enough adjectives and verbs to describe you in words.

So I guess I will sit and stare at your shape
and dream of my fingers moving over your nape.
And now I can smell the scent of your hair
It's floating around me, drifting on air.
I dare to reach out and pull you near
but I can't feel you, you're not really here.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is great. I love the way your poem takes us on a journey . . . first, explaining the desire to paint with words, then taking a stab at it (which is vivid & distinct), then finally surrendering to the feelings, rather than the vision, which leads to the final statement that this is all a fantasy anyway. What's interesting is the way the message starts out hopeful & light, but gradually descends into a puddle of vague hopelessness. I think many of us follow this exact trajectory when thinking about a loved one that's not in one's life.