Ancient Grace

Grace is hers, the white purity of childhood
A beauty that ancient Greek marble keeps.
Marble stalwart to the onslaught of Time's harass
While she her chaste youth locks away in heart.
Beautiful creature, who should be always near
In winter when we have no flowers and until
Summer to chill minds flushed in sorrow
Stand there wonderful just for yours truly.

Greek sculpture of scarlet lips and raven hair,
Speak to me languidly and charm my very soul.
Sit down. Place flower-like hands upon my heart
To understand my quivering lips, this strangeness.
Truly you move like music and draw the eyes
Violin voice touching secret chords never before,
I beg of you to curiously explore my life some more!

Rose-white girl, let passions not make you afraid.
Ignore the tears welling in my bloodshot eyes
And disregard if my blood should ever be spilled.
You seem so perfectly untouched by the world,
And your purity imparts simple men such strength,
Promise for that incandescence to never fade
Be the ancient greek beauty that marble keeps
And reply with my name when God asks who you wish to keep...