Upon skin's surface tis not all I see
For thine hath more complex inner beauty
Thou art not thine eyes, more than thine sweet lips
Nor thine hair, tantalising legs, nor hips
Thine beauty speaks softly, but bold alas
Thou upholds thyself with cunning and class
Tis my night as well as my day, shine bright
Thoughts turn to desire, one's I cannot fight
What am I to do, but sit and wait here
Dreaming of a grand world, where thou art near
Where I can hold thee, and comfort thine fears
And when thou art downtrodden, wipe thine tears
Such a fantasy as this, is as sweet
And should it come true, that would be a treat
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/295887738-288-k398276.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
More Than A Pretty Face
PoetryA sonnet, written in iambic pentametre, for a very special person to me.