She's a fragile creature, the one you love.

She is a fragile creature, the one you love.
Like water and wine, do not become so intoxicated by her spirits, though bright and joyous they may be,
Or you shall drown in her atmosphere, losing yourself and everything you know along the way.
Do not stray far away from yourself, though tempting are the soft tendrils of hair that fall over her face,
For you are the light she sees in the distance, a beacon of peace, whispering soft promises to her in times of darkness and despair.
She is the dark romance of a moonlit night, where all is still and silent.
She is the unknown oceans, swirling and breaking beneath an open sky.

Emerge yourself in her depths, but do not linger. For to luxuriate and to become esconsed
There is firstly a battle to be won, one which only the gallant and the honourable should attempt.
And as you hold her wrist, feeling the life breathe in inextricable passion and timelessness underneath her fine skin,
Know that she is visceral, that time will once more claim her for his own unspoken purpose.
Remember to release her gently, or she shall fall below
Deep into the depths of her soul, where none but the bravest warrior darest enter.

Her mind is the night, and alone she gazes down at the world beneath her.
If you can, though battle and storm may arise to entrap and decieve you, look into her soul where you shall glimpse the light of eternal in her eyes.
But to prematurely consume weaves a path to disaster, and to capture without her heart entwined with yours is beyond mans achievement,
And to hold captive the image you have of her is only to cause a damage that not even time, with his soothing murmurs can fully repair.
Though what you may see is a flawed perfection, that vision is merely a reflection of your own soul, you see her through your own passions and desires
And not as she is, as a fluttering beacon in the wind, guiding you back to her, calling you from your own self where you wait and despair, alone in sorrow
And into her arms, where if you fully let her, she will give you everything she has to offer.

But this is a fleeting dream, a far away mirage of joy and felicity,
For first you must see through the darkness,
You must untangle the briar and the thorns that have crept up to guard her dreaming heart, to protect it from feeling passions that rouse the senses and excite the imagination,
And once done, draw her into a life of rich harmony and contagious ecstacy, budding with the fruitful blossoms of love,
Where the Summer afternoons look upon happy couples with indulgent exultation,
And children bathe in the soft light of serene contentment.

But all is not lost. If you, by willing intent
Hold her close through the coolest depths as well as the warmest breeze,
Through the winter storms and what frustration of nerves and desires wrecks upon the temperament,
You will find that all is not as dark as it seems
And if you so choose to keep her, to carry her in your soul, to fight for the secrets beneath her bones,
If it is your lifelong effort to unlock what rooms had long since seen the threat of decay,
And build into the dream, opening the windows of her soul
For locked doors and boarded windows have not the capacity to contain her joy in your tangible and permanant prescence,

You will be the light that she lets in.


(Crystal Baker-Manning. 2.8.2010)