A Poem, by RicHeart

( The format may end up wrong, but the sentiment is there.) My Girl I'll share a vision I've always had, to relate to you, of how you're reflected in my eyes.   Of how others would possibly look at you, if they could see you though my guise. I would take you to my favorite beach, warm white sand, cool clear water to caress your toes,   I would sit you beneath a man-made tree, in a seat to nap, read, or however you repose. I'll take your child to the water's edge, where tiny waves are brushed by a warm sea breeze,   There we would build our castles in the sand, play lovingly, and each other we would tease. Our glee and laughter, splash and shrieks, soon wet the apitite for yourself to include,   Your stirring for the joy of playing with us, begins this one minds imagined interlude. That is when it really starts, the vision, the time of times stands still, for this , your decision,   As you arise, the hat comes off, the dark glasses and wrap fall, in perfect-style precision. You begin your walk, bare-footed in the sand, I see it clearly in mind, as soon you will too,   Your hips will twist, your arms will sway, you will feel as I do, by the time we are through. Bartenders stop their doings, the mixing, pouring, and blending; to watch the show right now,   Their eyes are on you, cherishing, noting a moment unending, not certain as to why or how.  Sitters near, on the beach, sense the quiet, stop talking, to search for the silent matter,   Readers of books, peer over sunglasses, to find a real beauty, instead of written chatter. Your arms then move in harmony, as you place your feet, a walk dripping of womanhood,   Younger women take note, their minds wonder, if at you age, they'll ever look that good. Finally you're there, your image towers, as you then smile, that grin melts me every time,   This scene reverts to normal time; there's talk and moving, but the clapping heart is mine.  But wait! And now make note, as to why this captured scene is brought to you heart to see,   It is to simply remind you of how truly beautiful you are, just in allowing yourself to be. The truth is, it doesn't come from the eyes of man, or any others who're unnamed and free,  The warm Love you feel, is from deep inside, when you look in the mirror, you call it me! By Richeart, 2005Enjoy, ladies.