He found a hobby in sculpting
He did it whenever he could,
It was his escape from life
In it he found true love.
After endless arguments with his spouse
that he could no longer handle,
His marriage after all these years
felt to him like nothing but a scandal.
After yet another raging fight
he escaped and started to carve in hatred,
he took to his lobby, his den of love
and began carving something so sacred.
The devotion he showed to his work
all the endless hours he spent,
The care he took with every shape
and the rigid stone he bent.
As the days turned to weeks
in order to carve the face,
He etched away the rough edges
and created the curves of grace.
After he'd finished, he took a step back
and admired the cold stone he'd given life,
He realised with undying love
he'd carved the image of his wife.
..................................................please comment and give advise as a trying to start writing again and need a few pointers ...........................
