When I think of you, my thoughts do not flow as they should,
Instead, they sway gently from iambic pentameter
To quatrain, to a Beatles song, then a slow violin with
The sweetest piano in rhythm, then horns and a rose
And the softest clouds in the sky, colors that complement
The shirts of kids laughing, playing, and two lovers,
Destined to be, holding hands under the old oak tree
In front of a winter’s sunset, and you, almond eyes,
Delicate rose lips, smiling, and knowing, always knowing,
A universe within a flower, within a snowflake, within a cloud,
Light within light, nothing more beautiful and mysterious,
Forever in my thoughts to be, but never thoughts at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment