Poetry

When I bring you a flower
from our garden,
then you do smile radiating like the sun,
while for moments
you are astounded by the beauty
 
and you do draw a picture for me
where you lie naked
stretched out in the sheets
and I wish that I could somehow
catch your beauty in a verse,
 
your hair that hangs in locks,
your smile that goes through all of my barricades
but my words are only wandering around
as if they have got nowhere to go.