The landscape of your portrait is the place
We sat and shared our mouths, beside the lake
I saw the sunlit beauty of your face
And hoped it was a picture I could take
But all my words are pale, compared to you
So, I just held your perfect hand and walked
I loved the path we chose; I loved the view
I also loved it when we sat and talked
You let me read some portraits I’d composed
And as I read, my words became the hues
Of rainbows which the sunlight had exposed
Above the landscape, which became my muse
The landscape of your portrait showed me more
Than any beauty I had seen before.