I long for the one
before whom I shall not be required to adorn myself with beauty,
nor burden my tongue with wit,
nor labour to explain the quietest chambers of my heart….
I need not summon laughter from thee with foolish jests,
for even my simplest words
shall somehow find their way to thy smile.
And then there is the way thou gazest upon me….
it feels bewildering, yet magical.
I know not the word by which to name it,
nor explain it,
but beneath it all lies something gentle and wonderful.
Nor must I strive to be the fairest thing
thine eyes have ever beheld,
for there shall be something within me
that thy heart recognises
before thine eyes have finished looking.
It is a peculiar thing,
to stand before a stranger and feel,
somewhere beyond reason,
that thou art not a stranger at all.
As though some quiet part of me
has known thee long before this meeting,
long before my mind could give a name to thy face.
Perhaps the soul remembers
what the mind hath only just discovered.
