Is This Niagaras Face
Is This Niagara’s Face
Her love does fall,
With all freedom,
She sends her call.
To create such amazing displays
Of honor and trust always.
Her groans of displacement
Sent on there own way,
Never with the sounds of dismay.
Tears of honesty garnish my face
As early morning dew laden with grace
Splattered across the peddles
Of a premature bloom,
Glistening throughout the room.
Her continuous crying filters the air.
So fresh and so clean,
Like gentleman of old,
So debonair!
If there is a smell,
It is those of warm wet stones
Atop a well.
So sweet in the nose
Like magnificent tones
from a falling bell,
It rings so well
Clouds of water adrift in the air,
Lighter then can be compared.
A glorious display
Of emotions all day,
Her splash’s do play
Like that of tides in a old bay.
This is a description of a place
Something I feel is niagara’s face.
Not to take away
But I have never seen her face.
Not even in this way!
By Desi E. Sherman
Copyright © David Sherman | Year Posted 2019
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