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Meus Carus
Who has harnessed the whirlpools, and
Filled your eyes with their mystique?
You are my order, and
You are my disarray.
You are the words on my fingertips
As I fall asleep, and
You are the reason that they stay,
Resting in my hand,
When I awaken.
You are the little smile that graces my lips
When it’s raining and
I have nothing to smile about, and
You are the thought that
Knocked on my mind’s door and
Made itself at home.
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A love poem