My kind of a woman. She inspires me and others, she holds the truth that this world is yet to receive.
She, enchanted with ancient and mysterious powers of love, like an archaeologist I dig and fall deeper into her heart filled with compassion and understanding.
She is chaos towards hatred, for all that she brings to this lonely world is unity.
My kind of a woman, is like a true peaceful light which shines a path that which I walk on.
In the most discreet darkness that leaves a man so lonely, she is that path I walk on.
In those rainy days, she is my shelter. With a chameleonic gift of adapting, she can, (feeling all but the worst in me) bring me back to life.
Natural to the most variable conditions, her love is my survival guide.
I lost my compass and she became my navigator.
She sees the original I, which was born without a word but the sheer need for love.
Mankinds collective knowledge, injected with fear of your fellow human, her love gave me freedom.
Like a toddler I have been, but like a mother she helped me walk and talk again.
My kind of a woman, is the museum that holds the treasures of my life's existence.
Amen a believer would say, but a gentle man, she made me believe I am.
Romance is a ceremony I perform to worship her love and home is the church I go to for her preachings.
This woman is my monstrous answer to both, who am I? and what is love?
Her love blooms like a flower far better and beyond, than that which is found in the garden of Eden.
She is my Adam and Eve, Romeo and Juliet, damn this woman, she is my Bonnie and Clyde
