A silver wisp of smoke,
Curling like a snake in the air.
A dame of old traditions,
The smoke lingering in her hair.
.
A magnificent piece of gold,
Just one piece among many.
But only one catches his eye,
The one that stands out the most.
.
It glitters like a thousand diamonds,
A red flower among the yellow.
It speaks out to him like a voice in the back of his head,
But this one he listens to.
.
Though his confidence is broken,
As her eyes lay upon his plaid kilt.
He is broken,
But his love defined.
.
His heart grows weary with every passing day,
His eyes grow hateful at his constant stares.
He can’t deny how she moves,
Or that look in her eyes as she lays them upon something magnificent.
.
A single touch from her hand makes him lose all thought,
And her whisper of love makes him sink in the deepest waters.
Anything that is different makes her scared,
And so she avoids, not being able to accept the feelings that run through her like water.
.
She doesn’t understand,
How anybody could feel so much for an old withered berry on a dying oak tree.
She can’t stop becoming,
She can’t stop feeling.
.
The only exceptional piece of their love is the heart,
The one in which he must care for.
And he too, will wait forever,
For her to give him her heart so they can finally be together.
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