He has his countenance
Like the rotundity of the moon
Blooming like a full bloom flower in the park.
Always joyous and serene like the beams of the sun.
Looking at me from the corner of his eyes
He frolics like the meandering slender reed
With vanity grown in its full form and taste.
He plays with his laughter and is the sweetest of honey
And clings onto me through the softness of his heart.
A clinging tendril is he to the hardness of a petal.
Sometimes a weeping fir to the coldness of the snow.
Yet, is always more of a treasure to me than trouble.
In the warm glow of the fire during the winters
His glances taper like the lightness of the feathered bird
And as timid as a hare comes and hugs me through the fall.
I wonder not if there could ever be a day
We wouldn’t be sharing every secret of our life.
I know not what life would be without him
And the secrets of my life remaining an untold story.