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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #1870277
No matter the care
You move like mist in morning air,
A barely breathed in whim of care,
a holding still as silence stares,
because your beauty strikes;
and your love is rare.

You hold me close in my despair,
And let me loose when you see it fair,
And though I run from whence to where,
Like a morning light;
You guide me there.

There's an innocence beyond the tear,
Each travesty can be repaired,
It's in honesty we have our share,
Because this love is right;
None compare.

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