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I Love
September 14, 2008
I met a fellow,
With hair of wind-blown
sun warmed sand.
His voice,
Light in the depths
Of the cool night.
His laughter,
A sweet sound resonating
Through mountains.
I love him,
Love his whole
Being and mind.
His eyes were bright,
A twinkling brown
Of darkened oak.
His walk,
The joyous trot
Of the swift fox.
I love him,
They say
He is lucky to have my love.
He opened my heart,
My heart which
to others is hard.
I love him,
his ways,
his sprit,
I love.
© Lucie C., Chatham, NY
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