His eyes, those sapphire forget-me-nots, blue like my pen’s bleeding heart, I ought to drown myself in his floral smile that curls his tulips in classic style
His cheeks a soft rose, fit for a snapshot. He sprouts hope, blossoming in my thoughts. I’m in love with this lily of the nile and his forget-me-not eyes
His soul down to earth, with roots that cannot be pulled up or contained by a clay ***. A heart of marigold and mind fertile, full of wisdom to grow the extra mile. I love his heart, mind, his smile and whatnot and his forget-me-not eyes.