They say your eyes are the window to your soul,
Well if that's true your soul is a portrait of the finest art,
A canvas of impassioned thoughts, languid, dark as coal,
And brush strokes, light and fierce, ablaze alike your heart.
They say that love is the poetry of the senses,
But I need not hold, taste or breathe in your skin,
Nor look within your radiant eyes to dropp my pretences,
Your angelic voice is enough to evoke my heart again.