I wrote it about my wife Joyce.
She radiates the sun.
The gold of the sun is already in her hair.
The softness of the flower petal is there in her skin.
The branches of the tree are misshapen compared to her limbs
The joy of seeing the sunrise seems shallow compared with seeing her beside me as I awaken in the morning.
Bill
She takes my breath away long before the sunset has a chance.
The clouds in the sky hide the sun’s shame at being less radiant than she.
The sunshine sparkling off of the clear waters of a stream, learned to twinkle by copying the sparkle in her eyes.
The red of the grape is in her lips.
All of the colors in nature’s palate pale when compared to her complexion.
The petal of the rose feels rough compared to her skin.
The smell of fresh earth can’t compare to her perfume.
The freshness of a spring shower coupled with the heat of a roaring winter fire mimic her kiss.
The flowers swaying in the breeze learned their dance watching her movements.
The warmth of the sun on a cold day is second to the warmth of her arms.
The sound of a meadowlark pales when compared to her voice.
The somber note of sunset is trivial compared with seeing her depart.
She is a Natural Woman and she chose to spend her life with me.
For that I am thankful.
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