The Beauty Beyond Poem by Leslie Xavier

That tree house and the red neon,
where you smiled; once, twice and once again.

You opened the doors, the welcome;
while I spit fire, rage with venom.
Then began the acoustic drift,
lyrics, a business; your voice, mellow.

I couldn't gauge the sensuous form,
but I did feel the refined grace.
A wooden desk, the moated fortress;
but the balmy breeze was a pleasure.

Tuned, rhythmic lines, your designed role;
arrogant and rash, my imposed bane.
But my heart did twitch a cent or two,
your name did strike a chord, I swear.

Inspired, I sang Beulah, the praise;
flattery it wasn't; honesty, just a bit short.
The whitish glow, I marked the lady;
what's in a name, the treasure is you.

My tale again, the missed moment;
sad, I may never cross that polished wood.