The light my eyes receive
Reflecting of your face
That aids me to perceive
Each imperfected grace
Has had to wend and weave,
Though at tremendous pace,
Through airs that interleave
Our intervening space
And so I sometimes grieve
That I can but retrace
The beauty I believe
No time would dare efface.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
The light my eyes receive
Reflecting of your face
That aids me to perceive
Each imperfected grace
Has had to wend and weave,
Though at tremendous pace,
Through airs that interleave
Our intervening space
And so I sometimes grieve
That I can but retrace
The beauty I believe
No time would dare efface.
