Acme of beauty.
Sleeping kindly, her figure reminds me,
of a painting I once saw, in my
grand mother's home. I discovered the beauty of
which god is so, awesomely powerful. His
angels of light, everywhere amongst us.
One of whome, lies here. Right next to
me. Resting peacfully. Angelically, she knows
not the condition of her hair and skin.
While she rests, but even then she is at
her acme of beauty. My heavenly
gift made by god, packaged and sent.
Directly to me, I cannot fathom enough
time it would take, for I to thank
him. For which he deserves, but alas.
I serve him, and I do not have to ask
for anything. Because, he already knows
what I need.
Reminds me of the start of any great romance...right before they speak and ruin everything. Other than the God aspect of the story I thought it was yet again another great bit of Englishing Sir
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