His eyes were two dishes full of applesauce, the sugar crystals reflecting the light
His hair was the golden wings of a dragon fly as it fluttered in the wind
His lips were the scarlet color of the blushing cheeks of the girls who passed him

His smile was a drop of paint in a glass of water
His laugh was the ringing of a bicycle bell
His sadness was clouds on a day that promised sunshine

His voice was a gust of wind on a painfully hot day
His speech was a toddlers first steps
His words were the delightfully foreign labels of fine wine

His charisma was the sudden warmth of a fireplace that took to flame
His touch was a mothers lips softly kissing her newborn child
His kiss had the frequency of rain in the dessert

Her longing was a wife waiting for her soldier to come home
Her dreams were a galaxy of unreachable planets
Their time together was a canvas always lacking a crucial color
His love was as easily caught as the wind