She hung her "I love you's" in the sky-
somewhere deep within the clouds.
God made her enchanting; God made her mystical.
She turned all of her magic down.

Instead, she graced this world with it.
She gave our sun her angelic glow.
So that sun can rest with us,
she also handed over her halo.

Just like the color of her hair,
The Lord filled the night with black.
The twinkle in her eyes lingers with the moon.
Then at day break, she gets it back.

She passed the softness of her perfume
to each flower, then on to me.
The sun rises with her favorite shade of purple,
then casts it upon the sea.

To keep us dancing, even in silence,
she sacrificed her voice to the song birds.
The lyrics she's written are beyond poetic.
Breathless, I've lost my way with words.

She collects the broken seashells,
and grinds each one to sand.
She suspends her "I love you's" in the sky,
while I merely kiss mine into her hands.

The seven worldly wonders
become eight when she looks at me.
Our eyes of brown and blue mingle
to form something in between.

Somehow, please send her stars shooting
from Heaven, to make her dreams come true.
While you may give her that gift-everything-
I simply give her my love's sweetest salute.

Now I know why I love the month of April
far more than the other eleven.
She's divinity's jewel; she's everything beautiful.
She's God-sent, down from Heaven.

What's mine is hers for the taking.
When I ask her for her hand,
I'll give her my heart to be worn as
the diamond of her wedding band.