A Statue Is My Heart of Stone
Regally stunning, the way she stands there, hair dancing on a windless day.
She is smiling, and I turn and look behind me, to see the object of her desire.
Is it me that she wants, with those far-away eyes, so much in need of love?
Everyday I come to visit, and tell her of my yearning, of my deepest desires.
I'm not sure, but maybe she feels the same way, by that sweetest of smiles.
Sometimes cloudy skies, bring the tears that stain her face, stinging my heart.
Then as always, the sunshine breaks through, to dry up any trace of her sorrow.
So lovely she waits, like a picture in a book, the way she holds her arms for me.
Even the birds want to be near her, for she is always there, to hear their songs.
I know our meeting, was but the stroke of fate, the way we ran into each other.
And if the legends are true, and I kiss those marbled lips, she will love me too!
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