Writing is the Painting of the Voice - Voltaire

That special one who I dearly love, A trusted confidant, her father delight. Legacy of her mother grace and strength Beaming across in her walk of life. Her desire known, she awaits patiently. Firm and assertive, she stands her ground. Swayed not by flattery, nor woed in vain. An epitome of what a person should be. A woman of respect, a well earned one, By merits of her action and virtue alone. Adorned in sunglass, her confidence worn Her inner strength shine on her face. Numbers,formula, theorem, she's at ease Teaching the essence of maths, she Excel Yet more than this, a guide and a mentor Her life presence, a guiding light beacon Funny and jolly, a rare sight to behold, Not a pretense but of her inner nature. Not the fairest, yet her presence profound Her essence felt, a force to reckoned with. Neither the validation nor applause of crowd, But her own virtue and noble aim, she seeks Of devotion and duty, to her Saviour dear Her hope lies, the reward of life hereafter. And amidst...

I spoilt the sports for you tonight, You gave me the best and I spoil it. This moment am gonna remember it well The ecstacy that overwhelmingly blissful. What have I done to deserve this from you. I had failed you a hundredth thousandth time. Yet you still find favour in me. You could simply walk away, ignoring me I had nobody but myself to be blamed An opportunist, selfish and ill temper I had. Going after those fleeting which are easy reach Thinking those will that makes till the end. Yet you holdfast onto your commitment. Not once nor twice but uncountable it had been Your trust nor confidence I deserves any. Yet you still have me made my heart known. 'Grateful' ain't words enough to express myself. I owe you favour that of a lifetime to live on 'Darling ' permitted be I, you look so gorgeous. Can't take my eyes of that photos. And here awaiting to admire you at arm length.