Van Gogh…Reynolds…Durer
brushed themselves on canvas
solitary
in their oil paint love work
all dread implication
stark as sun glare
on white walls in empty plazas…
wolf howl edging canyons…
a parting in dry grass
that love has no template
except self…existence
and a hand hold name…
that I love you
means I love me
so let’s embrace…beloved
compound the paradox
and I shall love you loving me
and…loving you
it is a starting place
Bonnie Marshall
Artist: Joshua Reynolds, 1747
Proem... 
Bonnie, what a beautiful love poem you have written. It seems as delicate as a brush stroke. >KB
Smiles. )
An enticing poem Bonnie. There really ought to be a whole genre of “love” poetry written just by women (ala Rumi ) This poem would be in my collection.
And I would feel very pleased by that, Jana. I like your idea of a genre collection. ) And, thanks for your mention of Rumi, for I look forward to enjoying his poetry.
Reblogged this on Ward McBurney.
… all you need is love; dha da danha dha …
Smiles. It is a starting place. )
i just found this helpful
I believe there is human nature truth in it. Glad it’s helpful, Ward.