Beauty

When beaty buds it shines like a star, or a necklace on a girl. Looks can t go too far oil on canvass can t run farther than my eyes can see. Forms and shapes sink in the sun and grace differs from grace but your eyes are strange, my sweet, they suggest another place beyond the hills I can see farther than a finch can fly. Beauty clings to me like a barnacle beneath a rock but when all is said and done, will envy mourn or mock? She beckons to failing hearts-- "behold heaven in a saint no villain lives in these parts". At last time is worn beauty wanes and stars fall like rain when night is born.