James
By ostrich
Tue, 28 Sep 2004
- 217 reads
His face, as white as moonlight's stare,
is gently framed with midnight hair
that falls upon his neck with ease
like darkened shadows frame the trees
And when he turns to show his face
he moves with such celestial grace
that jealous constellations sigh
and wish they could so please the eye.
Much lovelier than stars is he,
yet like the stars he'll always be
a world beyond my outstretched hand
while fixed upon his heavenly stand.
Perhaps that's why on lonely nights
I see his face in heavenly heights,
I blow a kiss from earth so far
to reach my love, my life, my star.
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