Sonnet 8 Poem by Justin Reamer

Blond hair flowing in the wind,
A face of beauty so pure,
A grace I cannot rescind,
A mirth that with all disease cures,
A love with so much intensity,
Eyes like the stars in the night,
Breathing softly yet with propensity,
Teeth that shine when bright,
An air of that of a morning dove,
One so gentle and so meek,
Yet standing strong with love,
She clearly is not weak,
And yet I lover her dearly
For her soul emanates clearly.