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b43dc6a
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You are the explosion of carnations in a dark room. Or the unexpected scent of pine miles from the woods of Maine. You are a full moon that gives midnight it's meaning. And the explanation of water For all living things. You are a compass, a sapphire, a bookmark. A rare coin, a smooth stone, a marble. You are an old lore, a small shell, a saved silver dollar. You are a fine quartz, a feathered quill, and a fob from a favorite watch. You are a valentine tattered and loved and reread a hundred times. You are a medal found in the drawer of a once sung hero. You are honey, and cinnamon and West Indies spices, lost from the boat that was once Marco Polo's. You are a pressed rose, a pearl ring, and a red perfume bottle found near the Nile. You are an old soul from an ancient place a thousand years, and centuries and millenniums ago. And you have traveled all this way just so I could love you. I do.
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poetry-love
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James Patterson |