Soft brown
To fantasize and feel their gaze
What magic does this hue contain?

Awe struck—will I drown in his sweet passion
if I chance a look his way?

Stricken

And if by chance we meet
Room’s end will not deceive such wily senses
    Our presence
will be mutually recognized
Long before words leave our tongue

You are my path
    my destiny, my life__ my Love

A joining force of eons ago
Hieroglyphics __ embedded in pyramids
of once lived love
withstand the test of time

Lioness’ keen sense gathers cologne scent;
    Parchment your hand has touched
    on well meaning words
so lovingly spoken

You are my Love—my Waterloo

So far in body, yet close at heart
Poets join in flight
    to soar their love by dreams of night

No fortress strong or ancient rite
    may sever ties or seize their moment

As snow falls, still amidst is the robin’s song of spring
And as their hopeful songs live on
So will I forever
in those eyes of brown