“She walks in beauty, like the night,” and
“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways,”
Have been penned by those
superior in verse, poetry, and prose.
So I am left to my own writing device
which seems to me ignorant,
colorless, and one dimensional
To adequately describe your eyes,
your tresses, your giggling girlish nature,
to fully express how my heart
reels at the very mention of your name,
requires skill in language I do not own.
I can only relate in ignorant terms
the few words at my command,
Whom classic poets would scoff at
and certainly reprimand.
Others reading this small sentiment
can never know just what is meant.
How longing for you is my only passion,
and in today’s world seems out of fashion.
For you, my love is as a fountain of water
cascading into a leaky cistern,
constantly flowing, but never filling.
Seeing you is sunshine for my soul,
Hearing your sweet and giggling voice
Returns the smile to my eyes.
I can only imagine the effect
touching you might have upon me.
That one sensation will ever elude
the warmth of my embrace,
my lips upon your silken cheek and
kissing that soft spot on your neck.
Oh, I know this poem’s a wreck!
But, my heart is full in every respect.
Breaking all the rules of poetic rhythm and rhyme,
Yet, my love for you will endure all time.
For it knows no meter, rhyme or reason
But grows and changes as the seasons.
So please forgive my boyish ways
as my love for you will remain always.