Ode to the Surprising
How glorious the azure of her eyes!
So like the sky, expansive, bright:
So kind and wise
When on my own they do alight—
And every other errant notion dies.
Her fingers are as graceful and as fair
As those of Ariadne; when
They brush the air,
The movements of her fingers then
Can captivate me, catch me unaware.
How quick her mind, how dangerous her wit!
With but a glance, she can disarm;
A clever bit
Of mental gymnastics and charm
And she will have you unable to quit.
Her laughter is a joy; the peals ring out,
A beauty far beyond compare
I'm not about
To make her mirth decrease; a prayer
To Bacchus—bringing smiles, destroying doubt.
How delicate her freckles, how divine!
The undrawn constellations there,
A grand design
That's framed by straight and flaxen hair,
A path that winds beneath her locks so fine.
Her spirit swells within her; it abounds,
Increasing mine as well. Her heart
Always astounds.
She's more than these; I cannot start
Defining her, not with just words and sounds.
I sometimes think I've solved this mystery;
But every single day
In some new way
She keeps surprising, twisting, and confusing me.
I think he loves me. What do you think?
