The forest of freckles haloed by golden hair,

Those clear, cold blue orbs lighted by a bright smile,

So sweet and genuine; her soft voice for a while

Had me fully enthralled between the debonair

Aura to her being and it’s charming fumble,

Flying me up so high as her words might stumble.

O reader can you see? Oh can you comprehend?

The root of her beauty in the palm of her hand.

Unknowingly dazzling, delightful innocence

Of the power she holds over my core essence.

How to explain this feel in few rational words?

Is it love that I taste? Delicate, free as birds?

Much less of a puzzle than a lovely intrigue.

Her image in my thoughts, I never feel fatigue

For as long as I keep this wonderful token.

My heart does beat faster each time she has spoken,

And cannot keep away my mind from her features,

Might she be one of those pure, heavenly creatures?

Say, am I going mad? The pleasant obsession,

Should I make go away or should I surrender

To these wishes of mine wholly without question?

She has eclipsed my doubts but borne many other…


If I were someone playful I would ask: “Guess who?”, but I’m not that playful. Or crazy.


2 thoughts on “Triumph

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