Valentined

countless hearts and roses fall for sake of heeding Cupid's call and yet I fail for phrases, new imparting, fresh, my "I love you" (for poets, past, have said it all) perchance I'll find the words inside your hazel gaze, quite starry-eyed the limpid peepers, fair and fierce that pity, not, the hearts they pierce (or pulses hurried, far-and-wide) could be the words hide in your grin and dance demurely with your chin coaxed to shine as sound is swirled much as your smile, to warm a world (with just a dusted touch of sin) perhaps the terms lie in your shape the curves, sublime, to finely drape that, placed with motion, quite defy all other grace thus brought to eye (and leaving countless jaws agape) might be the phrase lies in your hair fleece, tawny strands of tresses, fair or with your skin - so silken, chaste those unseen places meant to taste (adorned with only moonlight, rare) or maybe, found in ALL of these the words to bring me to my knees in reverence of the reasons, true that consecrate the wonder, YOU (and set my sifting heart at ease) but, I think I'm more apt to find the words to say how you’re refined in things that senses can't impart - the YOU that dwells within your heart so caring, thoughtful, sure, and kind ... bright sense-of-humor - artful mind of dark and light and grey, combined with heart and soul, thus intertwined and ALL that I have e'er consigned - yes, NOW my words ... are Valentined.