Finishing Unfinished Work

I watched Wes Anderson's "The Grand Budapest Hotel" last night and was inspired to finish some of the unfinished poetry that Wes wrote specifically for the movie, hope you enjoy the way I finished it.

Twas first light, when I saw her face upon the heath, and hence did I return, day by day, entranced, though vinegar did brine my heart, never was my mind so consumed with love for another. Her hair, lavish and generous, curved infinitely as if time had no presence on it, as if eternity were not long enough to display, to demonstrate, the beauty of each curl. A favorite she would pick, but alas, I could not. A waste for my eyes to look upon anything but her own. Green as the ocean, yet deep as the sea, a fool to waste my time looking at anything but thee. Her lips, oh to speak of those lips is blasphemy on beauty itself, for every word of life that comes from the lips of this goddess is love. To hold anything but her hands is waste of a sense, it makes no sense. There is much that I have not yet become knowledgeable about, but one thing I do. If God is love, then you are made in His own image, for you are love, darling, you are love.