A J C

Whose writings are these?

I think I know now

Careful she’s taken though

What a shame

I miss those gorgeous eyes in snow

My mind must think it’s beguile

That I find solitude in her smile

Though we are distances apart here

It’s the brightest of a morning this year

Her smile lights up the room

Her hair tender as a broom

The only other sound is the sweep

I think I might weep

A beast at makeup she is.

And months to come before we part

And months to come before we part

Always full of life

Her voice sharp as a knife

Cuts through a board

It cuts through my heart

Like a prophet in trance

Her touch is like the sky coming to me

Like a sandstorm swaying in the desert,

Like a wind shaking a tree

She shakes my heart.

She has seen my soul

That through my dreamy eyes

Why is she taken?

Are my insane?