Love is not blind.
Love is a vision beyond our eyes.
I can close my own
And right in front of me
Does my love appear.
She is formed
By all things;
Her hair are wisps
That lead lost souls
Through dark woods.
Her eyes are petals,
Slow falling light
Through a somber winter.
Her hands are the morning,
The start of all things,
A welcome to beginnings,
And a steady help
For the beginning of the end.
Her lips are autumn;
They are warm
Like the lingering summer,
But as time passes
And the Sun begins to set
Faster and faster,
And rise later and later,
She does all she can
To give you hope.
She colors you fire
Before burying you in ice,
So you may find life again
In the spring.
My love has given me
The greatest gift of all;
She is formed by all things,
And so it is in all things
That I can find a reason
To love, even if that thing
Is me.
That little light from your lampshade 