The brush unfolds
upon the canvas of her life
fine lines, and desolate points are smeared.
.
.
Perfection is simple imperfection:
for he adores each twinkle of her eyes,
and swims in the roar of her laughter.
.
.
Perhaps it is the daisy that is cradled behind her ear,
or the dimple that sinks into that glowing cheek;
it is the way she listens with her heart
&
answers with her soul.
.
.
His eyes merely reflecting pools
that recognize the peace
and sing in the unity.
.
.
For what resides in him,
also resides in her.
.
.
Tis the gift of life,
&
the acceptance of love.










! I stand in amazement of this piece! All the best to you!






Ok well I have to do this a third time????
31 old applause
