Your demure expression,
the unfailing grace with which you meet
the small misfortunes which we meet each day.

Your ready smile, intelligent gaze...
(the eyelashes covering your half-closed eyes).

The care you take in your dress--
nothing fancy, but always pleasing--
never letting one forget you're a woman.

That warm-red, slightly orange, sweater,
the color of poppies,
so perfect next to your yellow hair....

Let these words be a charm against
all actual physical love;
let them somehow quench the passion
which they are tokens of.