Words

Moonlight touch gliding through banana plants,
Searching for a tranquil lake to share a night
That feels like a minute or two is your presence.

You smell like innocence the day she was born
Into the garden of God where delight roams,
When words truly meant what they were.

The tick that wakes me in the morning's light
Is your face that I crave to see before the sun sets
Into the divine eyes of the east where angels dwell.

Words may not measure how I feel for you
And skeptics may chuckle at my words,
But I'll die before my love for you dies.