Portrait Of A Lady Poem by James Mullaney

Your eyes, glazed with starlight,
iridesence of the strange, still night,
have wrought their magic on countless others before me,
but conquered none so thoroughly.
Your cheeks are like roses blooming in the sun
in a landscape whose June can never die;
your lips swoon like wheatfields sodden with rain,
until the sun burns brightly again.
Do you know that you seem an ineffable treasure?
Have our genii distilled an elixir of pleasure?
Your dazzling teeth are galaxies crowned;
your voice, a resplendent, dulcet sound -
the drip, drip of honey from a butternut tree.
Your voice, sweet sonata, angelic song,
cheers my heart the whole day long.
Your hair, its profuseness, curly, and free,
forest of dark mahogany
surrounds your face with lustrous leaves
and loses me, deep in its silken weaves.

You are the lustre of a precious pearl
the glisten of the sapphire sea
the glitter of a crystal tear
the object of all poetry
the reflection of a swan in a glassy lake
the icing on a birthday cake
the bliss of a baby's pouty smile
quintessential grace and style
the wind-borne flight of a wing-ed dove
a priceless gift from God above.