How restless and unworthy we are!
Dancers, we strive for eloquence
In all that we do. But we bumble
And we eschew all the things that
Might bring us grace—love foremost.
Look at her face, she is beautiful.
Dare yourself to fall in love, if only
For the adventure it promises.
Sunlight hits the roses in the morning.
She is there, she waits for you,
Sunlight glistening in her auburn hair.
No comments:
Post a Comment