She is the cause of late nights,
And an ever beating heart
Her eyes alone, a star’s might,
Her face is heavens start.
So delicate she may break,
Surely built with pewter lace.
Her crystal voice leaves fate opaque—
Diamond accents a perfect face.
Hands like cashmere to the heart,
So fair and close to heaven
When she laughs clouds choose to part—
The sun finds a place in heaven
DannYetman
www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com
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