"Portrait of Milton"

Milton packed and left, When he was ten years old
His dreams wouldn't let him sleep, Trading home for gold
Ruth, named from the bible, But never told just why
Straight and strict was life until, She'd close her eyes and fly

A portrait of Milton, Hangs in the hall
Ruth looking back across, From the other wall

Milton was the last, Smallest of twelve at home
Never finding happiness, He was crowded and alone
Closing eyes one summer, Ruth did not return
The only words from mother, Warned that she would burn

Milton rose to give his seat, To Ruth when she would fly
The bus to Jupiter and back, Beneath dark lidded eyes
Drawn to sit across from her, Spotless shinning soul
Dream that interrupted sleep, He found his only gold

Opening her eyes one day, Ruth looked at Milton there
Angel wings in dark blue eyes, And silken flying hair
He never gathered riches, She never left the ground
It was a different treasure, They looked across and found

A portrait of Milton, Hangs in the hall
Ruth looking back across, From the other wall
Staring happily each day, Into each others eyes
Hidden treasure lifting hearts, To dance the endless skies




© 2016 Barnett Productions