I dream
as a flower,
opening
in waves
as I open
the pages
of a book,
I bloom
between
dreams
and reality
while in
sips of tea,
the people
I walk past,
they too,
are beings
of water
in the  
oceans of
the mind,
visitors of
the earth,
stars are
in the words
they speak
within the
the ease
of the
midnight
hour, the
propeller
seeds lift
for the
moon in
the eyes
they held
for one
another,
it is in
presence,
the depth
in the
quiet
longing
to only
read
of the
secrets
of love
I, the
writer,
wish to
sing to
them,
“all the
unsung
is, by
the sight
of the
heart,
sung
forever”,
so then,
all the things
they behold
become
as they are,
wondrous.

Your eyes shine brighter than the sun,
                    they make it look so bleak,
your eyes, more beautiful than the night sky,
                   make the universe's beauty seem so weak.

Your hair, oh, they fall much so perfectly o'er your face,
                   and those streaks, the way they sneak out from behind your hair,
are like Picasso's finest stroke,
                   like that one perfect sun ray coming out of dark clouds, cutting through air.

Your smile, the most beautiful wonder in the universe,
                  so perfect, it would make the golden ration obsolete,
And those shiny white beautiful teeth that brighten this dark world,
                 Make the world so colourful, and more importantly, my life, complete.

Your voice, like the song of a Nightingale,
                 So melodious and harmonious that even the best singers would shy away,
So mesmerising, that once listened to,
                 One might find it impossible to stay away.

Your touch, like a feather brushes against one’s skin,
                 So soft, yet so warming that it would melt the harshest of hearts,
Your touch, gentle as silence,
                 Speaks volumes for itself, and you, how wonderful a person thou art.

Your laughter could heal all wounds,
                Its so beautiful that even the Gods would come down to witness it,
The way you cover your face while you’re at it,
               Makes you look, the prettiest lady, finer by every bit.

You are as perfect as perfect can be,
                 You are the eighth wonder,
That people would **** to be know to,
                 As beautiful as Aphrodite, that you’d make a man wonder.

You are more precious than the life itself,
                 You are the reason people still have hope,
You are the definition of perfection,
                 Your talks are so flipping dope!

This, my darling, is what you call divine -
my good for nothing, wondrous soul. Take but a step inside - let the beauty bedazzle you. Find yourself in outer space and let the shooting stars of my heartstrings guide you home.

Not
'in this light'
not 'just now'
not 'at first sight'
not 'from this angle,'
but
timelessly,
universally,
after scrutiny,
from all perspectives,
you are absolutely -
wondrous.