She speaks into my ears,
Just as cool as she pleases,
Even thou I stretch my ear to hear
Her voice caresses my soul I swear
She doesn't have to be vocal
Her thought, an ocean, whose waters
Flood over the shores of my heart
And I wonder where her magic lies.
She does not preen her face
To beckons men's attention
She is not cute or sexy as a woman
Whose physique is capable
To threaten the faith of a pope,
Not as the common woman
Whose beauty is capable
To catch men's eyes
But when she passes by,
I see a phenomenal woman,
Nothing in this world
Ever exceeds her beauty
This thing about her
It beats the power of words.
And my quest to explain is futile
Yet it makes me smile
Mirroring my face in her eyes
It makes me proud, weak and strong
To persist in something more than love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem