Fire In The Eyes Of A Lady
When I look in the eyes of my mind, there lies a slight reflection of a candlelit flame, through the mirror of a window, seated at the left hand of a satin glove adorned in a gentle hand of beauty against a sea of black.
The golden slip on, I found in the corner of time, ignites the spirit of love and a distant recollection of a safe haven, dispersed by the breath of an angel.
The clock on the wall listens with every beat of your heart and echoes your song of springtime. The torch was extinguished in time, as the melting of white candle wax upon a ceremonial rice paper runway was imprinted by footsteps.
The quilted rainbow, you hand crafted for me, brought rest and comfort, while an empty translucent silhouette casts a shadow upon an unfamiliar canvas.
Rod iron could not separate the love, I felt for you, nor could it depart the love that was shown me. The peaceful echo of turtle doves still sing a joyful song of praise, living in the memory of your love.