Dearest Dorothy
Dearest, do you make flowers bloom in the days
And meet angels in the nights?
I heard beauty lives upon your face,
But not beauty of sufficient end…
Beauty of natural depth
They say, your mind too kind to exist with hate
Your eyes too bright to see the dark
But beloved, will you gaze upon your heart and find me there?
Will you gaze upon your mind and dream me there?
Upon these eyes, gaze awhile, dream awhile
For longer than awhile… my eyes will die
Copyright © Romeo D. Matshaba | Year Posted 2013
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