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Love Letter #17
September 18, 2014
He whispered into his paper, that if
Eyes were the windows to the soul then
Light danced off her gaily colored panes and
Illuminated the shadows of her countenance.
That the most dulcet of roses
Gossamer petals dripping with beauty
Would pale in comparison
To the dazzling scarlet in her nervous blush.
And if her freckles were stars
He was completely and utterly
Lost in the most exquisitely beautiful of
Constellations that adorned the midnight sky.
© Lauren R., Edmond, OK
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