Her face is like the rising sun
who's light cast shadow on me
In darkness far and silent
where no one else could see


A mind and wit full from dreams
shines bright in summer's embrace
Close beside some ancient column
the wind leaves love's sweet trace


Her lips do scream to love me
in the small quiet gardens keep
Kissing my cheek each evening
before I lay my head to sleep


Tate
Original poem
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/446503/