Deep Grayish blue dreary eyes,
like Beautiful clouds cluster the skies,
like misty black flower petals his hair seems wet,
his cold pale white skin like a thunder threat,
the long black eye lashes like threads of silk,
like a moon on a twilight his skin shines milk,
like the moon covered in black clouds on a wet nox,
as if will melt by touch like a chocolate box,
his deep dimple valleys like a greek god,
his sharp jawline like a shining sword,
fragile like feathers,
Gracefully like changing weathers,
hits the heart like a lightening bolt his single glance,
sends tickles in the stomach his intimidating stance,
lips like the cuticle on fresh green leaves,
veins casting perfection through his rolled up sleeves,
minty lemonish honey his smell,
his hoarse voice like a Christmas bell,
the glorious sight the night may blush on,
the eternal beauty the moon may crush on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Vote and share if you like it. Comment your views. Follow for more. Add it to your reading list or library.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Juvenile
PoetryWords are sharper than knife they say. Yes it is true. Some perfectly moulded good words can both make and break a heart easily. A poem is a group of such perfectly moulded words given wings to fly. They fly through the mind and heart easily. A hob...
