Hair like red paprika, smile woven together by the secrets of god.
Eyes lighter than the bleached white snow, in the woods which you've left.
My lady's a real fox, lips thin like strong clouds.
My lady's a catch, heart as full as the moon.
Who are you my beautiful?
Your furs been kissed by dew drops and it sucked in the petrichor.
You've laid with flamingos and watched the sun set.
And as I pet you I know I've seen something beautiful.
Within each sound is a song and in each tiny, thing a story...
but, in you there is melody, and in you there is pages of a woman that fill empty spaces in the lives of the people you've past after you've left those woods.
What gift can you give to a gift, but herself?
And here you are... my lady, sparkling and shinning, who taught you grace?
Who taught you style and beauty?
How did you venture so far?
How did you wonder here?
And we go back to the den.
It was the day... it was that day Jesus smiled...
Do you remember... that day Jesus smiled?
August sixth-
a beautiful baby girl,
a young lady,
a woman,
a fox!
Happy birthday Tobi.
YOU ARE READING
Behind My Eyes
PoetryA posting of every poem that I've ever written ...in continuation, as I write new things and express myself. Experience everything that lies behind my eyes. I am not very active on this site and only have used it to draw out my talents and express...
