Her

In the deep blue abyss, Wider than the ocean you lose track of self.
Guided by her gaze your mind wonders across her warriors reflection.
You see only the purest of creatures, with hair wavy and gold, like the parched cotton grass of the moorland Heath, shimmering late in the low October sun.
She smiles, illuminating the room with her fire.
Warmth ouses from her dimpled, cherry coloured cheeks as you find the courage to touch her.
The finest silk could not compare to the soft delicate touch of her battle scarred skin, you see the warrior and the raging fire in her soul.
It compels you to gaze deeper, in to the deep blue abyss.