The Gentle Stare

The sunlight spills across her hair, a river of spun gold, And I, like a moth drawn to a flame it cannot hold, observe her from afar, My gaze, a silent symphony, a melody that never leaves my heart, I wonder, am I allowed to look at her with such a tender, lingering start? Her laughter, like the chime of distant bells, a delicate and sacred sound, washes over the room, a gentle wave that crashes on my silent shore, The corners of my lips curve upward, a secret kept and never found aloud, Could it be some sort of wrong, when she is just so genuinely nice to see and adore. Her grace is like the willow tree, swaying gently in a summer breeze, Each thoughtful turn, each gesture, a masterstroke of pure delight, And my unspoken adoration, hangs suspended, amongst these silent trees, I search for any signals, but this feeling stays lost in the soft pale night. My heart, is an uncharted territory, where feelings bloom in secret places, This unrequited affection, a silent hum, that vibrates deep within my soul, It feels like a garden overgrown where only one soul knows the garden spaces, I'm lost in the maze of longing and a love I can't dare to make whole. She moves with a quiet strength, like a mountain standing strong and tall, And I feel a warmth, spreading through me, like the sun through the morning dew, I yearn to know her thoughts, to walk with her away and through it all, But, I'm rooted to this spot, watching this beautiful star, with my silent view. Is this a forbidden glance, a love that cannot be, a dream that will not start? My spirit aches with knowing, that this connection might never be more, But I will continue to watch her, with admiration forever etched in my heart, A quiet watcher, admiring her essence forever on this silent shore.