Women are beautiful,
and abundant as flowers.
The intellect
does not strain to recognize
lyrical contours of face and figure,
nor is it an effort
for it to note softly blushing skin
and flashes of vibrant hair.
Nature does not make itself unknown.
But then
there is the sudden lightning
of the one woman.
She, the culminated genesis
of perfect thought, mannerism, and form.
Within an instant
your senses become a stuttering
utterly overwhelmed awe.
You have discovered Nature’s trove
veiled in obvious sunrises, mountains, and stars.
The secret blossomed in the garden.
And this is when you fall
in love.