I dream as a flower,
opening in waves
as the pages of a book,
I bloom between dreams
and reality while in
sips of tea, the people
who walk past, they too,
are beings of water in the oceans of
the mind and are 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,
the depth in the quiet longing
and the secrets of love lead
I, the writer, in my wish to sing, “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.