How I See Him

By Natasha Gracious

He's the blush of desert sands,

Each grain kissed softly by moonlight.

He’s the gentle music that feathers make, 

When the mighty falcon takes his flight.

His eyes are home to silent prayer,

Burning wicks and incense fill the air,

Believe me, my love is true and fair,

As a mother's child, though not so bright.

A mirage, an optical illusion,

Where sky dives to the ground,

Or the ruby that winks on my ring finger,

Waiting for her stallion mounted knight.

By Natasha Gracious