Poetic Love

I looked at all the poems
Which I have penned for you,
And though they would not win a prize
Their sentiment is true.

They're varied in their content,
Quite changeable their mood:
And though you've grasped their meaning
By others misunderstood.

The pictures painted in each line
Can never be called 'art'
But buried in each complex verse
Is a message from my heart.

My feelings won't make literature
And my thoughts can't quite make prose.
But, hopefully, these words of rhyme
The depth of my love shows.