Author, Computer Scientist, Musician, and Photographer
Skin, even softer than rose petals,
Beneath my touch, a blush so maroon,
Each strand of hair like dandelions sway,
That summer’s breath trumpets through,
Eyes, deep meadows of bluebells,
Reflecting heavens, vast and true,
Lips, as tender as tulips in bloom,
Their kiss, a soft whisper, like morning dew.
She is holey like her jeans,
A temple for a body,
From her head down to her feet,
She is a denim deity,
She is holey like her jeans,
A serene angel in capris,
With wings that flutter unseen,
Her beauty is heavenly,
She is holey like her jeans,
From faded blues to cerulean,
A celestial dream to me,
It’s in her that I believe,
She is wholly complete,
Even her flaws are pretty,
My heart bursts at the seams,
When she wears holey jeans.
For whom do the weeping willows cry?
For whom do their tears likewise dry?
For whom do the hill crests stretch high,
For who do grapes grow on the vine?
For whom do they make the sweetest wine?
For whom do bees make honey in hives?
For whom do songbirds sing lullabies?
For whom do the stars twinkle and shine?
For whom do they streak across the sky?
For whom do the constellations guide?
For whom do the sun and the moon rise?
For whom do the planets all align?
For whom do the heavens deeply sigh?
For you, that’s who because you are mine.
A zephyr trumpets through the effervescent heavens,
Lifting a zeppelin above a whirlwind romance,
Beneath two vanilla doves perching on a branch,
The lovers hold hands, as they share in a laugh,
Their tender sweethearts delighting in the heartland,
Listening to the lovebird’s mellifluous ballad.
We will twinkle when we are in our twilight years,
Just imagine all the things we shall see and hear,
Wrapped in a celestial quilt I’ll hold you near,
And whisper in your ear, “You look dazzling, my dear.”
We will be as colorful as our sunset years,
We still keep all of the laughter and in good cheer,
When the darkest hours upon us there is not fear,
Even the reaper will cry for us twilit tears.
