tulip summit
Even beauty at its zenith seemed dim and outshone,
When from her lips, soft petals of speech were strewn…
As though a rain of mercy descended from above,
And every word fell scattered in prostrations of love…
The very moonlight, for which stars would yearn all night,
Remained absorbed in chasing some other light…
The heavens themselves would pause in the flow of those hours,
As if the night stood still in prayer, seeking her powers…
Ask not of her eyes — they shimmered like molten gold,
Even the timid doe bowed down, in wonder untold…
If ever she wandered through a blooming garden fair,
Butterflies would rest upon her, drawn unaware…
And should the fireflies lose their way in the darkened hue,
They searched for her radiance to guide them through…
The night itself would gleam more brightly than before,
Whenever she let her tresses fall and pour…
Each evening, even shadows would quarrel and collide,
Just for a glimpse of her, with nowhere to hide…
Her brow resembled a mirror, flawless and bright,
Even strangers saw her adorned in natural light…
I gifted her a necklace studded with diamonds rare,
Yet upon her neck, they seemed mere stones laid bare…
To witness the sculpture of her form so divine,
Even flowers trimmed their petals to refine…
Caravans of hearts were plundered in a single glance,
Thus people approached her with cautious stance…
Lest her brilliance should blind the gazing sight,
Even walls sought her quietly, hidden from light…
And from afar, I burned in a silent despair,
When her unaware eyes would wander elsewhere…
digital thicket
olive harbor