Dearest Dorothy

Dearest, do you make flowers bloom in the days

And meet angels in the nights?

 

I heard beauty lives upon your face,

But not beauty of sufficient end…

Beauty of natural depth

 

They say, your mind too kind to exist with hate

Your eyes too bright to see the dark

 

But beloved, will you gaze upon your heart and find me there?

Will you gaze upon your mind and dream me there?

 

Upon these eyes, gaze awhile, dream awhile

For longer than awhile… my eyes will die