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Oct 2018
They astound me, thine eyes,
Filled with such glorious emotion,
That even when they overfill,
They smile at me.

Thy voice, like nectar to a bee's throat,
Speaks of wondrous words,
Of majestic tales and heart felt lores,
And they escape your smiling lips.

And a fragrance so sweet blows my way,
To fill me with an indescribable ecstasy,
And gently wafts back and forth,
As you hold me in your gaze.

Therefore stand evermore by my side,
As I attempt to match your prints,
For the mark you left on me,
Only God knows I can't rinse.
Written by
Beatrice Prior  Gaborone, Botswana
(Gaborone, Botswana)   
158
     Em MacKenzie and Beatrice Prior
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