Written in Classical Romantic Style - Ornate, timeless, and rich in poetic cadence — like a romantic ode.
O muse of moonlit dreams and day’s delight,
Thy gaze outshines the gentlest stars of night.
In those twin orbs — such tender storm and peace,
The world forgets its wars, and sorrows cease.
Thy smile — a curve where every hope resides,
A crescent drifting soft on ocean tides.
It strikes the heart with shafts of golden flame,
And leaves the soul too rapt to speak thy name.
Thy tresses fall like ink from heaven’s scroll,
Dark threads that weave their spell upon my soul.
Each silken strand a line of sacred art,
A sacred path that winds into the heart.
Thy voice, O dulcet harp of whispered grace,
Turns time to wine, and silence to embrace.
No sweeter sound have seraphs ever sung
Than thee, whose speech is honey on the tongue.
Thou walk’st — and earth forgets to spin its course,
The flowers bow, subdued by love’s own force.
Each step a verse, each glance a lover’s plea,
Each breath a psalm the stars would die to see.
Thou art not fair — for beauty ends too soon.
Thou art the echo, fragrance, fire, and tune.
A living sonnet carved by heaven’s own hand,
A dream too vast for mortal heart to stand.
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