I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

he's like a cool glass of lemonade
on a hot sticky summer day.
he's like fresh peach cobbler in the winter,
and the finest apple picked in the fall.
and during the spring,
he waits
to grow into something delectable.