They Speak of You
They Speak of You
Hey beautiful,
How often
have I called you softly
by that name?
Your voice is a warm whisper
more soothing
than a gentle rain.
You are lovely in so many ways,
I could spend eighty-eight days
times eighty-eight ways,
just writing poems and plays.
Dedicated to just how beautiful you are...
From your head to your toes
to your near perfect nose
and all your girly parts in between.
...
You have only to look in the mirror
to see what I mean.
You are the beauty
of a single sunflower
in the middle of a desert oasis,
as twilight sets fire
to the sun baked sands.
You were created by the hand of God
and wanted by every man.
You are the beauty
of a cool glass of water
on a world where summer is eternal,
and no one has had a drink
in a thousand years.
What I believe to be true,
the word beautiful
was invented for you.
So, when anyone,
anywhere, at any time
utters the word beautiful,
they speak of you.
Perfect in all your imperfections
you've been beautiful all your life.
And if it hasn't happened already,
one day some lucky young man,
is gonna beg you
to be his wife.
For your a natural beauty,
that kind of beauty
where make up makes no sense.
You’re the answer to the question...
Why mess with perfection?
Copyright © Robert Kinard | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment