You are poetry in the material form;
my inspiration, my muse, my motivation
put into words.
Your poetry is the calm to my storm,
a written fantasy,
a voyage from the depths of my soul;
the foundation to my character,
the core to my living matter;
the common bond and necessity to my completeness;
like sentences to my hearts speech,
an untranslated language spoken through the art of love,
where creativity is born and manifested by the fondness of you
and all that you represent.
Your poetry is the song that fills my emptiness
and overflows like waterfalls of radiant beauty
eclipsing the ugly of an unforgiving world.
Beneath the umbrella of your presence,
I live as a free man, bound by none
virtuously exalted by principle.
Your poetry puts the skin to my flesh,
so that I may feel you.
Your poetry is the light
which my eyes have been deprived from.
Your gift is vision,
so I may see you, with eyes closed,
captive within my dreams.
You are the poetry that lives eternal
through transparent time.
Your poetry is timeless,
sacred to my existence.
Your presence speaks;
you are my poetry written aloud.