What’s words, when her love dialect, speaks so profoundly. Why wouldn’t I recognize heartfelt gesture? When the subtlety of her love, has become so quintessential, to astound. Why, fathom the depth in a river, when your soul has encountered, the love in a deep river woman. Her wit-ness, a testament to her heart, a love with a divine intellect. One glimpse into her heart, I knew an angel, was sent from heaven. How, could my heart not be swayed? When a moving love ballad, is playing quietly in the background, of a real life love story? A heart, is not a home, without the fragrance of love, lingering with the undeniable essence. The beauty of her love, a picture-perfect portrait; what love is. My heart is the canvas, painted with her unfading love. At night, I lay my soul down, and in my dreams I feel. Her love resting, quietly on my heart. Her breadth is felt, her love whispers in my sleep. Time never passes, her quiet beauty, makes the love timeless. Her love walks quietly, loves faithfully; never tiptoeing around, love’s true nature. Unconditional love, her beautiful accessory, gifted for my soul to cherish. A touch from her love, and everything is right. The gentleness of her heart, such a beauty to behold. Every kiss of her love, a permanent mark left on my heart, that can never be washed away. The color of love, her hands, and feet made beautiful. Her heart is virtuous, her love unmistakable, her words endearing. With a certain, je ne sais quoi. Pretty, pretty please, she shares with me her heart. In the quietness, our souls conversing; her love, has a quiet beauty!