I search my face
I search my face, not painted pale.
into the morning’s early day
without the cover or the veil
a smile as sweet as a bouquet
A sincere glow from nights ballet
A rose that blooms in full detail,
A tawny image for a stay
I search my face, not painted pale.
Who is this woman that I hail
and can not ever toss away
In lasting vision, I entail
into the morning’s early stay.
Who cast this spirit, I obey
her softest scent do I inhale
into the evening she does lay
without the cover or the veil.
The canvas of a lone female
who is a friend and will not stray
and tho she suffers, does not ail
her smile as sweet as a bouquet.
Her daydreams, Oh, so faraway
yet every vision she unveils
will help her drift along the way,
with graceful movement never frail.
I search my face not painted pale.