MT. RIGA ROAD
Reading edition
If I could draw— The country lies A beacon to my pointed pen, Enticing me to sketch again, Or paint the colored twilight skies. If I could play— I’d harmonize The babbling brooks in mossy glen Or sing the whispered words of men Or wordless songs in misty eyes. I wish that God had given to me Expression that real artists show ... The power to understand and see, Uplifted by the will to know. Instead, I write my paltry stint, Which usually isn’t fit to print.