Beauty is not
a pair of large breasts.
Beauty is not
an arrogant smile.
Beauty is a soft tender kiss, in the midst of dusk.

Beauty is a pair of arms, encircled and enlaced
the feel of soft skin
like the touch of velvet,
and the gentle, gentle, soft breaths
of two lovers, in love.

Love is like a farmer.
It plants seeds of hope in your heart,
until stalks of happiness grow
and blossom into fruits;
the actualization of your soul.
But then the farmer comes
and reaps his harvest,
and only fallow land is left, again.

* comes? arrives? returns?

Are you ready to trade
your comfort for change?
to seek adventure again
and to go out into the world?

She really worked a number on my heart, she put on her high heels just for it.

* * * * * * *

Every once in a life, something has to come along.

And you make me smile ~

http://economistsview.typepad.com/economistsview/2008/07/cash-for-clunke.htmlhttp://economistsview.typepad.com/economistsview/2006/01/

Even when I put my arms around you,
I feel a chasm between our souls.
Where are you hiding?
What will it take
to get you in my arms again?

~On Spongey

I reach for the stars,
and I see a streak following my hand,
and I realize,
that I am a shooting star.
Can such beauty be maintained forever?
Or must I too fade?

Viva La Vida - Cold Play

I see that sparkle in your eyes,
like the tinkling of a flowing frozen waterfall.
The look of your face, inches from mine, smiling,
with you in my lap,
just close enough to hold your waist,
and to want to kiss,
as I hold you in my arms...

My world just got a little smaller.

I feel very lonesome.

A hand inside my chest reaches out to grasp something,

but there is nothing there.

And the emotions retreat back into my chest
with nothing there except to curl up.

There are notes of music
strung across the skies of humanity
for them to look up to, on occasion,
and see their true potential.

(This was supposed to be longer, but I got distracted and forgot what I wanted to write, this part's not supposed to be exactly like this either.)