I can't help but notice the way the breeze combs beautifully
Through budding spring trees.
Almost like I can't help but notice your hand comb gently
Each strand of your sand colored hair.
No offense but the trees are more interesting.
And while I'm listening to the ocean that is your voice,
I am lulled to sleep.
Not in boredom but in peace.

I can't help but lay on my back and wonder
What a knack the clouds have for existing without any lack of tranquility.
Almost like I can't help but smile
When I see your knack for running into tables
When you walk through an aisle.

I can't help but stare.
Avert my eyes.
Then glare
Again, I can't help it.