Tiasha , me and poetry

Can an evening be
A thing of beauty?'
Tiasha asked me,

The lake before us
Caught all the hues that passed
On its  water, a picture of dusk,

I looked at the scene
Calm, still and serene,
And wondered what it did bring,

'Surely it can', ventured I
As a possible reply,
Looking at the colorful sky,

Tiasha looked at me
Her eyes speaking quietly
Her love , her unsung poetry,

'What did the evening
To us really bring?'
She asked, almost singing,

'Love', I thought I should've said
'That really the evening made,
That really sky before us laid, '

But then I those words left
Unuttered, not expressed,
I just in my heart them kept,

Tiasha being what she always had been
Perhaps gathered traces of them from the scene
And my hands to her face she doth bring

And then she kissed on them gently and soft
Like an angel perhaps, straight from heaven dropped,
Making me unburdened, as if held aloft,

I felt I had become a bird then
A creature winged, devoid of pains,
Ready to fly with her,  my lovely maiden,

To faraway lands, distant shores,
Where evenings such always colors pour,
Only to find love more and more.


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