Modern Romanticism

No one had created the skies

Embedded in blue

As the children’s view of summertime,

Like you.

No one was so beautiful as you,

Tiniest one.

For when I swiped teardrops away

From your tired eyes,

I was left open,

To dip my chin

And drink from your heart.

No one had looked so lovely

As you, among the fertile wash

Of ebony fields,

Each inch possessing its own flower

To pluck.

Just a sight, as you

I had come to adore,

Like Heaven had sworn

To share its light,

Above you.