Those days you ache and curse your lovelessness

       Complaining of the dearth of worthy mates

       Please know your ill a want of courage is

       You shake and stutter for Perfection's face,

       Just as a Master's timeless work of art

       Its heat and light instilled with graceful age

       Will throw a challenge to creative hearts

       Presumed to be as passionate and sage,

       And so a Lady Won will tempt with her charms

       Her lines pronounced and glossy finish tease

       Away the heart from True Love's feral arms:

       No struggle, rest within her rounded ease,

       But Love like Art begins the smallest stretch

       You dream Perfection but brave the roughest

          sketch.

 

       by Ernest Cardenas, San Francisco