Thoughts On St. Valentine's Day Poem by Dante Rose

Her voice as soft as summer’s haze
With a melting lost-brown, oak-wood gaze
Smatters of emerald illuminate her eyes
Clouded breaths in the sharp night air
With ice breaking all around the pair
Explosive magic ignites November skies

Setting shadows on the sun
As winters dream is forced to run
Theatres fill with unexpected company
Though her face could inspire a wounded soldier
A haggard thief, or a drunk freeloader
Her enigma is just what she sees in he

Serene, fluent hips
Which bloom like a rose’s lips
Effervesce a power, binding and potent
Not by a fire’s soft ember glow
Or green, lucid valley below
Only in her arms is he content

Ambition burning deep and bright
In her heart is a guiding light
And secrets never dwell between the two
In every lake and waterfall,
Sprawling forest and city hall
Her voice in every dropp of morning’s dew

Her as skin soft as Shakespeare's tongue,
With never a thought to who doesn't belong,
Shedding moonlight strands on long forgotten souls
Spanish melodies flow from her mouth
To her family values flying South,
Her warmth a shelter from the storms and snows and cold

Birds with wings that cannot fly
The number of stars in the midnight sky
Some mysteries in life none will ever know
The reasoning of death
The bitterness of success
What is sure: He loves her so