She was like a painting that extended beyond the sturdy frame.
Although, her canvas was a humble space. Her colors covered every square inch.
Of various shades of pinks and
Nicaraguan coffee bean browns, she gently joined the two with watery blues.
A mesh of the home of lakes and volcanos and land of rose fields.
In the art of poetic life, she spoke and breathed love for home and family with a timeless smile.
Her frame more than a small, fragile one.
She remains on display in memory.
A rose veiled portrait by the name of
María, the poet.
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Muse || Poetry
PoetryFor centuries, the nine muses in their many forms have inspired us to find our own purpose. Now it is time to inspire others and ourselves to do the same. Inspiration takes reflection, a period to muse over our thoughts and overcome ourselves. To be...
