beauty does not come
in lipstick tubes,
in concealer,
in eyeshadow
and liquid eyeliner.

beauty isn't
perfection,
beauty isn't
fashion,
beauty isn't
grabbing everyone's attention.

beauty hides in
the soul of she who faced her fears
beauty hides in
the heart of he who is brave
beauty hides in
a joyful heart
beauty hides in
brokenness made new.

just like the sun rises every morning,
just like a flower in bloom,
just like the morning dew,
every day your mercies are new.

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet,

And whither then? I cannot say.

Love* tastes like beauty, devotion and affection, rolled into a wafer together.

Love is the beauty of the vain, lone rose of the wild,
fading on the skin of your arms like a lotion.

Love is the devotion of watery jasmine and apples,
running smoothly down the back of your throat.

Love is the affection of thick, chocolatey hazelnuts,
dying so they can remain for everafter on the tip of your tongue.

the sweet, smoky taste of Love rubs in your limbs and your veins
until it is one with your blood and is the only thing you feel.

You devour Love, but it consumes you.