To Loveliness that's deep and rare
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that's like a sprout which blooms afresh
like the orchid that's young and fair;
lovely in aspect and in flesh,
she thrives in sunlight without care
as earth and sky fuse and enmesh.
Her vital force is hard to find
unspoiled and as innocent;
and with her ease and with her mind
she quells my rousing discontent.
As she breathes (softly from behind),
her warm words sound so eloquent.
Her beauty transcends its locus,
imbuing the thoughts of my soul
with clear, otherworldly focus
that makes my mind and spirit whole:
without her the world seems callous
and grace would not be in control.
"To have the soul of a poet is to feel with the mind, and to think with the heart."