-- The Soulprint of Poetry --
By John Herlihy
Touch poetry lightly,
Read its revealing braille.
The blind now see brightly,
The inner voice to avail.
Touch poetry soft,
Feel its gentle caress.
With hearts held aloft,
Souls suddenly blessed.
Poetry tenderly touches,
Its fingerprint left behind.
Its solemn beauty rushes,
In corners of the mind.
Its unique fingerprint lingers,
As rhythmic notes of a song.
The poet’s soulprint as fingers,
Wondrous beauty to prolong.
Pour forth verses that yearn,
As pure snow, as aged wine.
Found in a Grecian urn,
Singing verses sublime.
- - - - - -
Copyright ©John Herlihy
Sunday 14 May 2023
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But you need to be careful. Unless that is your fingerprint, whoever it is might be upset that you are revealing one of his/her most personal possessions. But I doubt it. ;-)
Ron
Can't find this word. Might it be a typo: linges. Do you mean Lingers?
Otherwise, a fine touch you've given this form of writing, knowing as we both do, there are fewer people reading poetry than blogs, tweets, pulp fiction and other incidental uses of the language.