A treatise on my Love, for swelling babe,
For whom through me God's inspiration rage,
Could I, the fool, ever come to see,
How one is made as beautiful as thee?
Saints and angels privy to that fact,
But I the eyes of Heaven surely lack,
So I guess it must be leap of faith,
To worship art that framed thy fragile face,
Imbued in it an aura of sweet grace,
Betraying Heart with life of Love apace,
Thou art a rainbow that sweet serenade the sky,
With coloured light where bonny angels fly,
Could I, the novice, paint thy vision true,
In a hue that does justice to you?
Gift me love, with your precious peace,
An angel painting my heart in cerise,
Raising thoughts of care to pains release,
And the barbs of misery stop, to be they cease,
I am amazed and stupefied in awe,
Of angels irresistible to adore,
With them one does never want for more,
But in ignorance for more we may implore.