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Monday, May 6, 2013


Each time I gaze upon your elegance,
I realize why I became a writer.
Although many see the beauty in the world;
they cannot comprehend its depth.
They seek with their eyes, not their heart.
As a crafter of the alphabet,
each letter I choose is a sculpting tool.
Touching deep the essence,
and slowly creating an mental image
for those who are blinded by mere lust.
I see not just a lady of monumental beauty.
I see the majestic beginnings of the day in you.
You hair like the flowing grasses,
dancing in the wind.
Eyes like the open skies,
the portals to the cathedral of your soul.
Nose and cheeks,
offer the hint of the gentle rolling hills of the countryside.
Your lips,
the gateway to Heaven.
The graceful movements of your body,
fluid as the Seven Seas under trance of Luna.
A rhythm of the perfect evening,
set to your heartbeat.
You soul an expanse of love,
an elixir of pain and pleasure.
The pain in my heart for the blind,
the pleasure for those that see.
You are beauty.
You are my Muse.

© May 6, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic


  1. Very pretty! I hope she reads it. This is the kind of stuff women hope men think and write about them :)

  2. Thank you. She read it. She said I touched her heart. How lucky I am.
    Have a great Tuesday!