Its time which slowly passes as if a cold unforgiving river

It seems our love; it grows as if a fragile orange flower

Our eyes meet and meld as if by a divine, magical fate

Our lips, they meet, and create in them a heavenly place.

True to life we dwell as one together in an enchanting circumstance.

With the elegance of a dozen roses, she walks in the dusk,

Transfixed on her charm, I realize that she embodies all that is beauty….

BY Mitch


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