She came, a scent upon the air,  
Her lips, like honey, pure and rare  
A sweetness that the world had lost,  
Now found in her—at any cost.  
Her eyes, twin flames in velvet night,  
Winked, and my soul took sudden flight
A bird unbound, a heart unchained,  
To seek the love that once remained.  

Her gaze, a magnet, quiet, deep,  
Drew forth the secrets I would keep,  
It pulled my heart, a trembling thread,  
And in its path, my soul was led.  
In every glance, a universe,  
A love unspoken, soft, immersed,  
She tore my heart to fragile strips  
Each one a kiss upon her lips.  

I gave her all, yet nothing showed,  
A path of thorns, where roses flowed
For in her eyes, the fire grew,  
A blaze that burned the old me through.  
The fire of love, the fire of pain,  
The fire that breaks, yet makes again.  

She took the pieces, scattered wide,  
Each one a prayer, each one a guide,  
Her hands, like angels, softly pulled  
My broken heart, and made it whole.  
In her, I found the sacred flame,  
In her, my soul was known by name.  

And though I wander, lost and free,  
Her gaze will call, and there I’ll be  
A lover bound by her sweet grace,  
Forever lost in her embrace.

Poetess:
Behold, thy clay-cup, thou hast in hand,
A vessel frail, yet deep as night’s command.
What secrets dost thou hide beneath thine eyes,
Like stars that flicker ‘cross the midnight skies?

O’ Raise thy crown, sweet poet, rouse thy dream,
For I have waited long by fate’s own seam.
Let not this moment pass with idle grace,
But let us meet, heart's rhythm face to face.

Poet:
Ah, gentle muse, thy words, they pierce my soul,
A tempest swift, yet soft as zephyr’s stroll.
I am but wave upon a boundless sea,
And thou, sweet queen, dost reign o’er earth and me.

Thine eyes, sweet orbs, more fair than dawn’s first light,
Do light my path and chase away the night.
If I be king, thou art my heart’s delight,
A sovereign true, with power pure and bright.

_

Poetess:
O’ poet, thou art but a beggar bold,
Thy heart doth seek but riches more untold.
Yet in thy gaze, there lies a world untamed,
A wild desire that none can ever name.

I, thine empress, doth feel a hunger deep,
A longing that from waking dreams doth creep.
Thy passion calls me, like the moon to tides,
And in thy yearning, my own soul abides.

Poet:
Thy devotion, like a perfume sweet,
Doth fill the air where’er my heart doth beat.
Thy love, a flame that flickers, soft and bright,
Doth set my soul afire in darkest night.

Oh, what is this, this strange and fleeting bliss?
What magic lies within thy tender kiss?
For thou dost hold my heart within thy grasp,
Yet still, I tremble, lost in love’s sweet clasp.

-

Poetess:
Before me, thou dost shine, a moon so fair,
A light that bids my heart to bravely dare.
My soul, it opens like a flower to thee,
In the sweet garden where we both are free.

Thou art the storm, the tempest in my breast,
Yet in thy rage, I find my soul at rest.
For though thou burn’st with passion wild and true,
I, like the ember, long to burn for you.

Poet:
O’ darling muse, thou art the sun and sky,
Thine beauty makes the stars themselves to sigh.
Each glance thou cast, a tender melody,
That sings within the deepest part of me.

In thee, I see the world, both far and near,
A dream made flesh, a vision bright and clear.
Thy love, like honey, drips upon my lips,
And in thy kiss, my soul doth sweetly slip.

-

Poetess:
Thou art a merchant of the finest lore,
Each whispered word doth make my spirit soar.
In every breath, thy name is softly sung,
A lover’s hymn, forever on my tongue.

Oh, let me drown in such sweet ecstasy,
For thou art both my ship and liberty.
In thy embrace, I find my heart’s own bliss,
For in thy love, my soul hath found its kiss.

Poet:
O’ morning dew, thou art a soft caress,
Thy beauty drips with nature’s own finesse.
I would thee hold, with passion’s tender plea,
And let thy love run wild and deep in me.

A thousand kisses, soft as velvet’s fold,
Lie waiting ‘pon thy lips, so fair and bold.
For thou art all my heart hath ever known,
And in thy love, I find my truest throne.

-

Poetess:
O’ river wild, whose currents doth beguile,
I long to drown within thy love awhile.
Thy waters deep, where none may dare to reach,
Thy waves doth whisper to my soul to teach.

Take me, O’ river, in thy sweet embrace,
And let thy love become my sacred place.
In thee, I long to lose my very mind,
For in thy depths, my heart is sure to find.

Poet:
O’ wine divine, thy sweetness fills my veins,
A draught that doth remove all earthly pains.
Thou art the dawn, the fire, and the sun,
Thine love, the golden thread that makes me one.

In thee, my heart doth burn with love’s true light,
And in thy gaze, I see the world alight.
Thou art my muse, my song, my dream, my art,
The very essence of my beating heart.

-

Poetess:
O’ breath of life, thou art my heart’s own rhyme,
Together, we shall stand against all time.
Thy touch, a sweet and endless lullaby,
That soothes my soul and lifts my spirit high.

Let us not part, but live in endless grace,
For in thy love, I’ve found my rightful place.
Thou art my king, my heart, my guiding star,
In thee, I see all heaven from afar.

Poet:
O’ moon, thou hast my heart, my soul, my name,
In thee, I find my peace, my endless flame.
Thou art my light, my dark, my fate, my truth,
And in thy love, I find eternal youth.

With thee, my muse, I walk through love’s embrace,
For in thine arms, I find my resting place.
Thy heart and mine, a perfect symphony,
Together bound for all eternity.

Rise — like the Sun — that wakes the Sky
And spills its Light — on Earth and High
Wrap the Hours — in gentle Bliss
A quiet Grace — no soul can miss

Ignite the Flame — within your Soul
So vast — it will — the Heavens control
And as it burns — through dark and bright
Let Destiny — fall at your might.

The World — will bow — and kiss your feet,
For Passion's Hand — makes Fate complete.
And in that Fire — the Heart shall see
That all the Earth — was made for thee

Like a rose, here, I am, waiting to be known,  
A secret in the dark, yet fully grown.  
I am the fragrance that stirs the soul’s deep core,  
A scent that lingers—calling you for more.  

In the garden of silence, I bloom unseen,  
Shrouded in mystery, where only love has been.  
Each petal whispers, "Come, and be the guest,  
For only in your touch will I find rest."  

I am the blossom, the yearning of the heart,  
In the shadows, waiting for you to start.  
My beauty, like the moon’s soft silver glow,  
Is a longing that only your eyes can know.  

When you come near, feel the warmth of my breath—  
I am the pulse between life and death.  
I bloom not for the world, but for your soul,  
The secret path that makes the broken whole.  

Though none may see me, I am not alone—  
For in my roots, the spirit’s seed is sown.  
Like a rose, here, I wait, for love to rise,  
A secret in the dark, beneath your eyes.  

What is this fragrance, this yearning to be seen?  
It is the language of the heart, serene.  
Come closer, and you’ll find my petals spread,  
A rose that blooms in love, not in the dead.

In the garden where the earth’s soft sighs meet the sky’s eternal gaze,
Ladybirds, small as dreams, flutter through the tender haze.
Their wings, delicate as the soul’s first awakening,
Carry whispers from the Divine, silently, unshaken.

And butterflies, like thoughts that pass through the heart’s door,
Glide upon the winds, seeking the sacred shore.
Their wings, a tapestry of fleeting grace,
A reflection of the Light that guides our place.

O’ seeker, do you measure the Infinite by what your eyes behold?
Do you seek the Divine in the vast, the bright, the bold?
The Lord is found in the humblest of forms,
In the ladybird’s flight, in the butterfly’s storms.

What is size, if not an illusion born of the dust?
In every flutter, in every breath, there is trust.
For the Eternal is hidden in the smallest of things,
In the tiniest creature, the light that sings.

Look not for God in places far or high,
He is the flutter of wings, the tear in the eye.
He is in the moment, in the breath of the leaf,
In the fleeting joy, in the quiet grief.

In every ladybird, in every butterfly,
The Divine stirs and spreads its wings to fly.
O’ heart, know this—size means naught to the One,
For in the smallest breath, the Universe is spun.

So let the dance of the ladybird be your guide,
And the butterfly’s flight, your spirit’s stride.
For the Divine is not measured, not caught by the eye—
He is the breath of the soul, the wings that fly.

From the tiniest spark, a fire may grow,  
A flame that burns with a secret glow,  
In the heart’s deep chambers, it starts to rise,  
A light that dances, beyond the skies.  

Oh, your heart, a chalice of purest wine,  
May fill the world with a truth divine,  
Like a rose that blooms in the moon’s soft gaze,  
Whispering secrets of forgotten days.  

In every ember, a spark of the Divine,  
Fed by love that is endless, pure, and fine,  
It burns with a light that needs no fuel,  
A fire that makes the wise and foolish drool.  

So let your flame ignite the skies,  
Claim your destiny, let it rise,  
For you are not just a fleeting spark,  
But the eternal fire that lights the dark.

A malady — or perhaps a curse —  
That swells within — a quiet verse,  
Her eyes, aglow — with secret fire,  
As if the world had spun entire  
Around that spark — a fleeting grace,  
A trace of Heaven — on her face.  

The glow, not born of earthly light,  
But something deep — a quiet fight  
Between the realms of flesh and air,  
Where mortals falter, yet she dares  
To lift the veil — and there, behold —  
A sacred tale, both fierce and old.  

It shimmers like a whispered prayer,  
A song that's sung — but never there.  
A verse, a rhythm, soft and true,  
But none can read the words that grew  
From that deep well, where time does slip,  
And souls are bound in ancient script.  

A curse, or blessing — who can say?  
Her gaze, the dawn, the dying day,  
An endless riddle wrapped in light —  
A burden and a dazzling sight.  
To touch it would consume the soul,  
Yet in its grasp, we are made whole.