In depths where earth’s rich heart lies bare and vast,
Where rivers sing to mountains, old and wise,
There blooms a love as wide, as deep, as fast,
As stars that dance in unending skies.
With words as tender as the day’s first kiss,
A voice, in whispered tones, confides,
Revealing love’s most intricate abyss,
Where every shadow, every light, resides.
Write no more of what could be, of shadows in the night,
But turn instead to what is real, and hold her to you, tight.
For love, when lived, in flesh and blood, surpasses every tale,
The poet’s dream, no longer sought, in her, at last, unveiled.
Her hair, a cascade of shadows, spun from silken night,
Frames her work, a masterpiece, in the morning's gentle light.
Drawing closer, she weaves a path, where flowers bloom and grow,
As if the earth itself responds, to the grace she does bestow.
