She sit with her legs out,
almost floating in the water,
and her hands to her sides holding her up.
Her soaked white dress flowing with the light waves.
She's on the deck of a ship going no where,
Sitting in a pool of water that goes to her hips.
Her hair short, fluffy and slightly curly.
She looks like a young, beautiful, white lion.
On the sides of the ship hang fabric of bold,
red and royal blue in decoration. The moons out.
In lit darkness she moves her hands and arms around,
playing with the water without a splash.
She lays back in it, her hair up and spread out above her.
She can't stop smiling.
That's the last thing she'll stop doing.
She looks up at the stars, relaxed and happy.
Only sun rise can stop her.
She'll sit back up,
letting the warmth wash over her,
And gaze upon the beauty that 'has' to remind her herself.
Then she will go back to her room and the ship will sail on.
It's like it's not even my ship, it's hers.
No one will know of her stolen nights and peaceful mornings.
No one but me, and me only, for as long as it lasts.
As long as I can have her.
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...
