You asked for nice words and poetic verse, My writing brain coud not be worse.
by stephen day dolan
To talk to you scrambles my thoughts, my words come out my mouth like im a stammering wreck talking nonsense of that im cursed.
An air of mystery shrouds you as i try to get to know you more,
I see your long hair captured in the wind, i hear its movement as if music playing in my ears as it wraps around your face framing your immense beauty for all to see.
I look out the window and all i can see face drawn into my mind as if a tattoo artist has worked his trade upon my brain.
My heart does pound and my pulse quicken when i look into your eyes the shade of electric blue to put a bright summers sky to shame, You look deep into my soul and work your magic touch to melt and mould my dreams my emotions as if it was play dough in your fingers.
A massive grin to see upon my face as i say these words to you.