Something For My Lover

In the ethereal gloom of the mornings without him
She sees this tragedy weekly,
Her body accepts the torture of being without his;
But only because it has hope for the future.

She dances delightfully in the sun like Friday’s child
Awaiting his eyes like rain; like light and champagne.
To become intoxicated on one glass of him,
One glass has the power to make sure she grows so beautifully
His eyes are where she finds her home.

She seems sure they are the 8th wonder of this world
The 1st in her world.

Like the Kremlin and Red Square in Moscow, they bring colour and value and so much warmth to a place so cold.
Like the Christ Redeemer in Brasil, the goodness in them is visible for all to see, they watch over her like a saviour. Her warrior, her king.
Like the Pyramids in faraway lands, they are perfectly symmetrical, perfectly perfect and made to last forever.
Like The Great Wall of China, they go on and on, a never ending display of pure love, love that she knows is hers.
A love as ancient as the Colosseum in Rome, though new to her every day,
She embraces it, she treasures, she cherishes it. This magnificent masterpiece is hers. And she feels sure they are the first to have ever sailed this silent sea of true love.