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.