Five worlds, pure as the dove,
Five worlds that give all happiness
Five worlds of what's above.
The first world, beauty to the eye:
Shade and shape make fair;
Yet if you were to search for hours,
His face would not be there.
The second, music to the ears:
Songs, gentle, and low,
And by all means, do strain to hear,
His voice, you will not know.
Third is velvet to the touch:
Somooth and soft and warm,
But judging by his brittle skin,
You could not find his form.
The fourth is flowers to the nose:
Scents that smell so sweet,
And roam around this world all week,
His smell, you will not meet.
The fifth world - sugar to the tongue:
I can't speak to compare,
But if you were to kiss his lips,
I doubt their taste is there.
But one more world, which I love best:
The world that is my own,
In all I love, and all loves me,
Here he finds his home.
Five worlds that formed perfection,
Five worlds, pure as the dove,
Five worlds that gave me happiness,
Until I
fell
in
love.
Spoiler
Based on the guy this is about, I must have written it about two years ago. He was hardly a looker, but he was one of my best friends, and for several months I was pretty much infatuated. I found the poem a few weeks ago and decided to fix it up a little, since my writing skills were... not impressive... in those days. It's still not really very good, but I spent hours redrafting and redrafting, so I thought I may as well see what you all think. I'd have called it more verse than poetry, but it's not the worst verse I've ever written.
