And there's a girl,
blue eyes more lustrous
than the most prized sapphires.
She's smooth and soft,
coarse and steadfast,
and all things welcoming and warm
as a hearth and a coffee;
cool and brisk as the breeze,
on an autumn morning.
Her voice, calming as the stream
that trickles,
over stones, in my memory.
Wearing the rocky bed flush, running clean,
and clear.
She takes me there.