deepundergroundpoetry.com
Her True Beauty
We meet each other in the middle of the night
With the Milky Way and all of the clear skies
Above us. She has a soul that is always bright.
With that one look into her mysterious eyes
And I am gone. With one single streak of light
She is all that more beautiful and no one denies
Her loveliness in the dawn. No one thinks less
Of her charisma and all her delicate like grace
In a porcelain doll or ballerina. Her dark tress
In a smooth wave down her back and her face
Reflects like moonbeams. Her thoughts express
Themselves clearly or concisely. Her safe place
To rest when the light travels over her brow
And the words flow out like an eloquent
Language. Her essence and smiles that glow.
Her skin color that changes with days spent
In the sunshine. All that is laying below
The surface is a love that is innocent.
With the Milky Way and all of the clear skies
Above us. She has a soul that is always bright.
With that one look into her mysterious eyes
And I am gone. With one single streak of light
She is all that more beautiful and no one denies
Her loveliness in the dawn. No one thinks less
Of her charisma and all her delicate like grace
In a porcelain doll or ballerina. Her dark tress
In a smooth wave down her back and her face
Reflects like moonbeams. Her thoughts express
Themselves clearly or concisely. Her safe place
To rest when the light travels over her brow
And the words flow out like an eloquent
Language. Her essence and smiles that glow.
Her skin color that changes with days spent
In the sunshine. All that is laying below
The surface is a love that is innocent.
Published 28th Nov 2018
Author's Note
Inspired by Borrowed Rhymes 1 of n. End rhymes borrowed from Lord Byron's "She Walks In Beauty" (which is as follows):
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace
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28th Nov 2018 8:33am
"Of her charisma and all her delicate like grace
In a porcelain doll or ballerina. Her dark tress"
Excellent dearest...enjoyed this very much
Byron would approve
Jeff
In a porcelain doll or ballerina. Her dark tress"
Excellent dearest...enjoyed this very much
Byron would approve
Jeff
28th Nov 2018 3:50pm
28th Nov 2018 7:48pm
Thanks for entering the competition. Your poem worked well; I found it interesting to compare the meter in your poem with Byron's. Cool.
29th Nov 2018 4:53am
Thank you for hosting that competition. I hope that you get more people to participate. I love that poem of his. One of my favorite pieces.
