owed to a love

your like a picasso, perfect and rare
as for your beauty....there are none who compare
your body's curves leave me to stare
as i sit writing, thinking of you
i feel confused, wondering what to do
the smell of your perfume so familiar
nostalgic...like a dream not quite remembered
knowing you would be such sweet pleasure
every moment spent , something to treasure
your wit and charm...so disarming
my feelings growing, it's becoming alarming
your soft embrace, is in such good taste
my life without you would be a waste
kindred spirits, here for eachother
maybe in this life, we'll become lovers
behind my eyes...i wish you could see
how i sit waiting on a bended knee

c.s.