I gently walked
in to the garden of her truth,
a seeker of her soul, I felt blessed
in that very moment.
My girl had an amazing collection of flowers,
they greeted me with smiles
that would never wither or fade.
If I hesitated a minute  to step in here
when her eyes,  fluttering doves invited,
in the language of their own,
I would have been a fool,
who doesn't recognize gold in its purest state.
The impish smile on her lips
tells me, everything she knows,
that her truth is indeed mine
in no way different.
*Birds of same feather,
we share the poesy of our heart
that freely flows and expects nothing in return,
other than a perch on eternity's branch.