Beauty

What if were to compare you to a summer's day?

You are more lovely, like the pungent roses that bloom in spring,

Summers beauty is fragile and will eventually deplete,

Summer afternoons fade away into winter blizzards,

Sometimes the sun is a blazing ball of scorching heat,

And sometimes it's shrouded in grey murky clouds,

And the death of mortal beauty is inevitable,

By fate or the storms and tsunamis brought by nature,

But the beauty etched to your soul is everlasting,

It will not be consumed with the passing of time,

Your soul will not be prey to death,

As part of your beauty is preserved in these words,

As long as men will live and breathe and read,

These words will live on and speak of your beauty.