Veronica

If words could touch the wonder
of sweet Veronica's eyes,
you'd never forget them.
They'd hold you peacefully, tenderly
as a warm blanket on a cold night,
and even after they'd let you go
you would remember that delicious comfort.
If words could touch like her loving gaze
you'd fall in love at first sight
and never want to go.

Oh Veronica, dear Veronica,
brown-eyed Veronica,
nimble as spring's first songbird,
if only you knew what you do to me.
How you overwhelm me with a laugh,
sweetly slay me with a smile,
and leave me anxious to die at your hands again.
How your voice melts the years
so I run like a first love.
How you make me sing.

Veronica, you hold my heart
like I hold this pen in my hand,
so you're the real author of these lines.
If you hold me while I hold the pen,
what am I but the shadow between
the creator and the creation?
The work, the credit, and the creative power
are all yours,
and I am the little voice
that can't help but sing your praises.

(Photo credit: "IMG_0064-10" from Dionysius Burton on Flickr)

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