Marquis

I can't help but notice the way the breeze combs beautifully Through budding spring trees. Almost like I can't help but notice your hand comb gently Each strand of your sand colored hair. No offense but the trees are more interesting. And while I'm listening to the ocean that is your voice, I am lulled to sleep. Not in boredom but in peace. I can't help but lay on my back and wonder What a knack the clouds have for existing without any lack of tranquility. Almost like I can't help but smile When I see your knack for running into tables When you walk through an aisle. I can't help but stare. Avert my eyes. Then glare Again, I can't help it.