Here's the last poem I'll be sharing tonight (morning, I suppose, depending upon the time zone). It can be found on pages 20-21 of "Seasons Come, People Grow: A Poetic Journey".
The face of an angel,
Her wide eyes sparkle,
Loyal and honest to the core,
Her innocent smile and demeanor,
Strong-willed and dedicated,
Kind and generous to others,
She holds her head up high in confidence,
With her, tasting the sweet and never the sour,
Her intellect reigns supreme,
An imagination like that of a child,
Creative and artistic is she,
The most genius person I know,
An alluring and magnetic glow surrounds her,
Everyone helpless to smile when she is near,
She brings the best out in everyone,
With her winning personality and sense-of-humor,
One that can always be trusted,
Trusting of me at the same time,
She gives as much as received,
Everything mutual and balanced,
She likes to be selfish at times,
But knows when to give me space,
She accepts me for who I am,
She accepts my flaws and imperfections,
Does she exist in reality?
Or merely a figment of my imagination?
The hopeless romantic paradox has come before me,
Full of hope and optimism for all of my existence.
The face of an angel,
Her wide eyes sparkle,
Loyal and honest to the core,
Her innocent smile and demeanor,
Strong-willed and dedicated,
Kind and generous to others,
She holds her head up high in confidence,
With her, tasting the sweet and never the sour,
Her intellect reigns supreme,
An imagination like that of a child,
Creative and artistic is she,
The most genius person I know,
An alluring and magnetic glow surrounds her,
Everyone helpless to smile when she is near,
She brings the best out in everyone,
With her winning personality and sense-of-humor,
One that can always be trusted,
Trusting of me at the same time,
She gives as much as received,
Everything mutual and balanced,
She likes to be selfish at times,
But knows when to give me space,
She accepts me for who I am,
She accepts my flaws and imperfections,
Does she exist in reality?
Or merely a figment of my imagination?
The hopeless romantic paradox has come before me,
Full of hope and optimism for all of my existence.
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