SCULPTED

Thought I saw a piece of art in a block of stone

Taking a pen, commenced to chip and hone

The minds eying seeing it from the start

Stirred by passion from within the heart

Smoothing out lines with a sculptors hand

Searching for the image in this stone and sand

Lines cut by a determined will

Guided by what the soul did feel

Desire and diligence so others may see

Phrases shaped so carefully

Painstakingly taking so much time

Developing the hidden rhythm and rhyme

And at times the image finally emerges

In statuesque poems and sculpted dirges

Or the ink filled chisel yields nothing at all

Until the stone is left to crumble and fall

Thought I saw a piece of art in a block of stone

Turns out, I really should have left it alone