I rebuff and repel my dross of having you beside me in order to fill and bridge the unpacked part of my life. I do have an exigency, devoir, and desideratum to fill me by myself.
Reshaping me outright and downright would be my whims and fancies. Preponderance and ubiquity remain elsewhere, I brush my lips against that of yours and I plant a kiss on your cheeks. Your sorcery and sortilege are reflected among the protagonists of the writers of the Edwardian era. Enriched with every caper and cavort, my heart takes its hop and bop.
Your chic, sumptuous and discerning fabrics are your icons. Your wardrobe, decorated with courtly and dainty hats and gloves are dazzling as if they were to get auctioned with the highest bidder at Christie’s South Kensington. You donned sack suits all day. You are the pash, the passion and that floret with every passing hour. Your nub and pith and quirks and quiddities hold and resettle me under its power.
I am clogged and wedged from resisting your riveting and intriguing gate, sequestered, and secluded in a daze and haze, enamoured and entranced by your ways. In the neck of the woods and in the stomping grounds of fidelity and piety, thou art my ceaseless and ageless spring. Your ubiety and ubiquity are a thriving tarp and tarpaulin and an awning cloth and sailcloth of zippy and zesty hues, as flower buds blossom into their full bloom, so do my ardour and amore for thee.
Shaft of sunlight
My love for you is a blue and blue and blue sky that runs to eternity is a placid and docile touch of breeze that blows during spring time. Yours is a shaft of sunlight falling through the winter’s facade. Your bestowed probity and purity disperse the rime of lack of conviction that invite the affability and amiability towards the corridors of my heart.
You rise like a brume; time focused with you is a glossy and gorgeous lifetime. Your chant is just like the chimes of Big Ben. You are staunch and end up being my unflagging and unflappable patron and white Knight; a stout-hearted and bound and determined scout and spotter who holds me in a cosy and snug truss. Resembling a giant Oak, planted in the bygone era, you stand vehement and wilful. Your limbs, regenerated with masculine pep and vigour shield and shade me from gusty and turbulent winds that blow through the garden of my life.
Your being around me reflects on a sublime constellation; being a guardian god, through a lifetime of catastrophes and whirlwinds engulfed and envisaged with the rigid and rugged onset of the pandemics, you came off the carpet whilst throwing light on my path with an enduring and intense adoration and adherence.
With each and every beat of your gallant and dauntless ways and means, you baffle and foil adversity, resisting any distress and anguish that dare to approach. Your love is a regal and exalted citadel of the manifestation of an unending allegiance that braces my spirit. You capacitate a woe or affliction of any calibre that would cast misfortune on our path. With you and also you being my chivalrous and valorous guardian, I fear no imp, no hellion. Your compassion enshrines me in an oasis of perennial bulwark.
Across your thick brown hair, hush hush preserved. Your affable and comradely stance is the alleyway to my uninhabited kingdom of mirth and merriment. Your chocolate brown skin is an awning cloth; your brawny and muscular hands are my abating embrace. Your gleaming and glistening eyes are the ingress of the charm and poise of my soul.
With each and every step taken, your princely and magnetic walk is the classification of a purified finesse. Your ethos and quintessence loiter and dawdle across my ears. You are invariably the personification and the incarnation of my trance and reverie. In every eupnea and gulp, in every passing hour, my thoughts connected with you bloom; my heyday of youth, my prime youth would always blossom into a peppy and vibrant flower.
