The Curve

The Curve

The Curve

Beauty is a curve
In the curve of a vine
Or the shape of a soul
It’s in the rush of a wave
The bend of a wing
A hand outstretched
The soft shape of a hip
The lilt of a song
When I open my heart
And anytime I dream
Of the impossible
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One thought on “The Curve

  1. This poem helps me to see shape…or probably more correctly line as much more than a sterile visual reality. Here I am painting a picture in my mind by your words Paul, of many sweetly contaminated forms in motion, and even movement of unseen forces, which opens our hearts and lets us raise our voice.

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