Cherry wood eyes,
Golden creamy skin,
An ever generous grin,
A fantasy from afar,
Is her door slightly ajar?
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| Romantic poems |
Knows nothing of guile.
Is she even prettier within than without?
Any time spent with her leaves no doubt.
So gentle and feminine,
Joyful and sublime,
Her beauty a reflection
Of an inner tranquil time.
Does she even know
The wondrous inspiring glow
That follows wherever she will go,
For sharing her happiness so?
For such a soft generous spirit,
Ever thoughtful and kind,
Can make the heavy-hearted
Pay worries no mind.
Is she truly so happy
Or must she make a great effort, too?
Does her candle burn endlessly
Or flicker amid morning dew?
If she is taxed by troubles,
She lets not her plumage be ruffled,
For she radiates love in sunshine and rain,
Behind such innocence, real strength is plain.
I love her most for her excitable joy,
A refusal to let a petty world annoy!
She is a glorious flower ever in full bloom,
The one I wish would never leave the room.
Her honeyed, hypnotic voice
Has the gentle rhythm of a waterfall.
Just to read her letters creates a calm.
How intoxicating to feel such peace.
Oh! To revel in mutual trust and giving,
Yet she’s ensconced in eternal mystery.
How enticing to share so much more,
But reality is a conspiracy.
So she remains always on a distant shore,
Fate has decreed there can be no more.
No matter, my precious pumpkin,
Thee I will love and adore
Forevermore.
~ By Dr. Douglas Young
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