You, my love, are the fleur-de-lis.

                 The offspring of innocence

                  The embodiment of purity

 


                           Silk are your eyes

       For they look on with such suppleness

      The lustre of your soul is reflected through those windows

 

                         Fair is your heart

            For it reverberates much passion

               Much tenderness; much hope

                         It loves profound

         With the suave movements of your heartbeat

               Another tender petal falls

 

 

    A touch softer than a summer's evening breeze

    Warmer than early morning's first rays

    More comforting than a new-born's first   motherly embrace

     A touch more hauntingly beautiful than nature's grace

 

 

     Une petite fleur, merveilleuse et vraie

                      Fragrance of divinity

                          Simplistic beauty

     Constantly blooming; forever beguiling

         You, my darling, are the fleur-de-lis.

The rain fell

Every morning at the same time

Short Outbursts with the beginning as sudden as the end

As if the rain washed the night away with long tears of misery

Taking away the darkness that tarnished the sky

Like a paint spill on a clear canvas

Like a blemish on a pretty white blouse;

Cleansed clean welcoming a new day

A clean slate

A new opportunity

The rain fell; The sky cried

But the sun shone colouring the canvas anew

New pictures; new sceneries

But again the cycle will begin

And the rain will fall

Every morning at the same time.