Cara signora bella,
I praise God that you were born a lady, and I a man, that I may adore you from afar, and worship the grounds on which you float by.
You are the sunshine that brightens a darken day, the moon that brings assurance to lost travellers at night. You are the stars which veils the earth with a nostalgic haze.
You smell of spring flowers, and radiate with summer's passion. Your remind me of autumn breeze's sweet caress; your presence ever so refreshing and magical as winter's first snow.
I adore you, I worship you. No fine wine can intoxicate me as you have. You are not merely beautiful, but an inebriation in motion. Look not towards me for I fear I may drown in the ocean of your eyes. Smile not that bewitching smile at me less my soul be lost, my heart cast asunder from my body.
Indeed, I dare only to love you from afar, I admire you with reverence liken that of a sacred religion.
You are my muse, my inspiration. I may be eloquent, but only because you per chance exist to be the melody. You are the embodiment of ideals, an actualization of quizotic dreams. You are a lady, and I thank God I am a man.
No comments:
Post a Comment