(Image credits : Imgfave.com)
She was an art...
Not all could fathom her beauty.
She was a book...
A story not for all to understand.
She might appeal to some as ordinary...
But she was a soul with hidden depths...
Her thoughts were like raindrops
Pouring down from heaven...
She hides in her secret garden...
Hard for anyone to ever find...
Her fragrance envelopes around the delicate green bushes...
She is fragile, but she is a beauty with a stubborn heart...
She is misunderstood often by many,
But there are few, but they are few...
But the few...
The few...
Who can see beyond her smiling face...
There are million secrets a face hides.
She is but a secret...
A secret untold...
Secret that one promises to keep...
Secret buried within one soul.
If you desire to meet her..
There is a promise you must keep...
Promise without a lie...
And you can keep her until you die...
She is not a myth,
But truth is visible in her eyes.
She is hope dancing in the palest aquamarine robes...
Her soft honey brown curls swaying along...
She is indeed a symphony...
A treasure bringing great peace and delight.
She is a mystery...
But guard her with your life.
If you really wish to meet her...
She hides in her secret garden,
Hard for anyone to ever find.
Remember to keep the promise...
She's a secret...
A secret... never to be told.
Wow this is so called beauty. Its so meaningful. Amazing work my dear friend. I see a robert frost in you. You have miles to go before you sleep, miles to go before you sleep.
ReplyDeleteKeep writing and cherish yourself. Waiting for your next poem.