Competetive Metaphors

I feel the comfort softly that you bring
your voice is like the water in a stream
your softness is the grace of which I sing
Like light expands from nothing to a beam
A beam of light upon on a stream is mine
Now hear me say I thought of you today
reflected on the lilly-pads divine
Your form is beauty, Eyes can bear away
annoint mine eyes with wisions of your form
annoint mine eyes with what I want to see
Yout stature and your shape subdue the storm
of what the other women want to be.
Your comfort fits within the form, displayed
Upon the water, still. your birth is made

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