She was the sun,
He was the sky
She was the answer
He was the why
She was the poem
He was the pen
She was the party
He was the when

He was the instrument of her fine music.
She was the maker of his ideas.

Paint without canvas
Rhythm without soul
Only together could Life become whole.

Oh valorous and courageous Heart,
Scholarly love was all you thought to pursue.
But Life gave you another heart to love,
then, too soon, took her away from you.
A tiny heart was left in her shadow;
a child to blossom in your Life.
Too soon, too soon would she know
that Time betrays the greatest warrior,
Oh valorous and courageous Heart.

As crafters craft and artists art
all things Beautiful were once apart.
Brought together by Work and Pain,
Perfection is sought again and again.

But it is only through Agony and a convoluted sense of Direction
that Man and the Universe can create Perfection.
Accidental masterpieces brought daily into being,
Beauty is not only Seen through seeing.

Tears that cloud our jaded sight
make that once unclear terribly bright.
One view of the World is never enough,
it is the Visions of others that make our Works tough.

All labours of Love, do not always Love find,
but that is because to Love we are blind.
Love is an ability that colours our emotion,
thus, a single man can move an ocean.

A river, an ocean, a dam of time
each human is given his Voice to rhyme.
A wave, a ripple, a tsunami effect
that changes in magnitude only in what we expect.

These clashes and crashes, shatter and break.
It is not our Strength that determines how much we can take.
It is our Determination and Perserverance alone
that distinguishes a boulder, a pebble, a stone.

The cracks and tears,
the pleasures and cares,
mean that Beauty through Perfection sought
with Tragedy and Imperfection is wrought.