#dorothylives

her love is necessary

she stands fatigued but undefeated

moves the earth as needed

a new ambition underscored

i long to be a comet

searing at an altitude sufficient

to stand watch inside a western sky

where my venus is the starlight

i am not magnificent

i have no silver wings

i only have her beautiful

and my one desire

she's where she needs to be tonight

as every other evening

pouring out her mystic light

shades of gray

and black and white

electric smile and

eyes of candlelight

but relentless

she is weary

but resilient

she is dangled over fire

but fireproofed

she is vulnerable

but strong

the best measure

of character is

taken in times

the task ahead

is neither pleasant

nor elective

my woman meets the task

she is ambivalent

but intentional

she is comfortable

but enduring

she is a rock

she is a rose

she is a friend

she is a lover

she is triumphant

she is selfless

she is poetry

she is prose

my woman loves hard

she is loved hard

she is softness

she is bedrock

i love my woman

an old soul and young heart

residing in a lovely vessel

the color of rain

the scent of wind

flower of iron

grown in harsh conditions

pelted by thunderstorms

blistered by the sun

still fragrant and gorgeous

accept my love this tribute to

you an old soul and young heart

she read twelve poems

to represent a dozen roses red

her birthday desserts just

a way to honor her uniqueness

contrary to the ordinary

deep in art and poetry

timeless beauty classical

leap into any abyss if

she said it was the thing to do

expecting an adventure

celestial surprises

life beyond ethereal

for i respect her intuition

regard her ancient wisdom

know within my heart

she holds me in her love

i might call you moon to my cloud

perhaps if i were keats -

thou the loveliest now to beyond

but i am not either of those guys

nor am i a pale shadow

so i will say -

pastoral eyes befit a country girl

nature's truest colors

gray and green and in between

blue around the water's edge

chocolate in the evening

vanilla afternoons

caramel at breakfast time

idyllic country picnic moods

in her annie hall disguises

or when she wields the gavel

talking to the fawns

capturing the northern lights

strong as any carbon fiber

soft as any cumulus

wiser than her fond apostle

more beautiful than moonlight

be mindful of a country girl

she doesn't have the time

to waste on half a hearted