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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=471427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Opus</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=471427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There was a widow pianist<br>Who plays most pristinely<br>That would drag your feet<br>Into an emollient waltz<br>But you would never hear<br>The banshee caterwauling; <br>His opus.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=471427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There was a limped painter<br>Who paints in fluid levity<br>That extends such gaiety<br>To purge the ashen scene<br>But you would never see<br>The withering canvass; <br>His opus.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=471427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There was a smug architect<br>Who design most intricately<br>That your eyes and mouth gape<br>Musing in an ornate beauty<br>But you would never find<br>The crying skyscraper; <br>His opus.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=471427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">There was a coy poet<br>Who wrote in enigmatic strokes<br>That would pull a knot in your head<br>And sometimes in your chest<br>But you can never read<br>The written yearning; <br>His opus.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Norman+Santos">Norman Santos</a></strong></div>

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