In God's own calendar,
...years are days...
We truly are caligrafy-
wordy emotions dripping...
My vision is blemished with irritation
from endlessly rubbing your image...
Your fount fragility stemmed from roots ruined
from a fractured faith...
Pre-dawn heading to the airport
the hidden sun casts a yellow haze...
You are my forever,
I am your always...
You tell me that
I am beautiful...
My eyes crystalize like the morning sun,
when you enter our castle's edge...
No words more pleasing:
"Yes, I want to spend the rest...
With a rose in his mouth he did
Indeed ask her in all seriousness...
Illuminating my life, you
Nourish my soul like fire...
I don't need fancy gifts,
diamonds or even a pearl...