G
It's like every day you grow on me
Like a flower turns towards the sun
I turn, a sapling,
Feeding off your radiant beauty
You could be a model;
Slender waisted,
With the way you comport yourself
The fashions you oft wear
And the way you demonstrate
Of demure temperament
And exotic sophistication
Perhaps not on the runway
But runways are stupid
You still belong in Dolce, Prada, Gucci
So very classy
You glow with your body
In seconds, in minutes, I count the time
The glances, the smiles
Wondering what'd it be like if you were mine
Save the last dance for me
Some of that raving Canadian splendor
Winter's angel's a cutie
Such beauty hurts the sight
In this way,
You're not at all easy on the eyes
Your pupils pierce my soul
And burn kaleidoscope rainbows
Into every crevice
I asked what color your eyes were
One night on the beach
You told me green;
Of course whey were
They could have been the
Most startling, starkest of blue
Hypnotizing hazel
Or deep wells of brown
But of course they're green
It spreads from your way
And into your speech
Of course they'd be emerald
Releasing from you
That lush lifeful green
© 2008 Eugene Aarons-Cooke