The Sound of Her

The Sound of Her

The gentle flow of the wind through my hair,

The same color as the one in my eyes,

Textured waves flow through and through,

Resembling the clouds in the skies.

The only difference is the color of each,

One, a fluffy white, the other, a soft brown.

The melody, the sound of children’s laughter,

As I walk through a warm, gentle town.

The smooth skin is the same as my hair,

A soft glow to soothe the sights,

The fire in my eyes, ablaze,

Worth more than the stars in the night.

My hands pleasantly glide through the strands,

Each one curled uniquely,

Yet each one completes the movement of sound

The song of the it plays in my ears sweetly.

The color of my eyes, my skin, and my hair,

The beautiful rhythm each one plays,

Illuminating everything in sight,

Different, yet all are the same.

The whispers of its beauty,

The metaphors I hear were,

A song in all of its glory,

The final words spoken were the sound of her.