Type on computer
Using a standard format
Then go click and save

she thought her world a work of art
set in stone by solemn hand
painted all in shades of gray
& laid out to another's plans
ashen, discolored, lacking spirit
a life she could not bear to stand...
No!
Her world would burst with color
Were its palette but her own to choose
In character bright & dynamic
Brought to life in vibrant hues
Yes, color itself would be her muse...
Yet when at last moved was her spirit
With inspiration to create
Her love affair with brilliant tones
Led to a not so brilliant fate
Because she learned, but learned too late
How dull can seem the brightest color
When encountered every day
Leaving alone one in a world
With its color dried away
One painted all in shades of gray

There's no such thing as bad publicity
Just ask John Lennon...!

Some face seen
As in a dream
Made manifest
Before your eyes
Does vision lie?
Perhaps it does
In its own time
For which it is
Quite suited fine
So well aligned
As if for some
Great planned design
Whatever treasure
That one finds
Expressed in verse
Laid out in rhyme
Is always what
Will be divined
As has to be
Such as defined
Piece by piece
All line for line

In an ever expanding universe
Borders may be but where minds will not go
Leaving archaic all limitations
As dimensions forgotten
In time and space
Quid pro quo

What tears and laughter might be brought
Were that which one suspects as truth
Should be laid bare for all to see
The aftermath of all one's wrought
On display, so vulgarly
Intentions once kept secretly
Hidden from one's own mind's eye
Now revealed through revelry
Made clear in Bacchian apery!