This is a poem I wrote for a friend of mind a few weeks back:
My Heart Jumped The Moon
When our eyes met last night,
my heart jumped the moon.
“Hello. I love your beautiful red skirt,”
as I anticipatingly leaned toward you.
You turned, and my heart lept;
a greeting, returned with a warm smile.
Your beautiful partially woven brown hair, like two long intertwined ivy branches merging to form a circle; long flowing hair that blended so effortlessly – mixing style and fashion with beauty and grace.
Wearing a bold red color that still could not steal my eyes, for more than a moment, from the perfection of your face. Every flirtatious curve of fabric, hinting, unable to conceal your sexiness. Even your dress desired as much as I, to snuggle as close to you as possible.
You were the most beautiful girl in the room. But I suppose you always are.
Even nature’s triumphant celebration of beauty, perfection – the Red Rose you held – demurred next to your face. The velvety pedals seemed to stretch and lean toward you, as it does to the warmth of the sun.
Your big brown eyes were strong and bold. Pleasing like chocolate. Confident. Overpowering.
Victoria. The name so perfectly fitting: Victorious. Triumphant. Adorned by Queens. My heart lay in defeat. Unable, unwilling, to fight, resist. A battle barely waged.
Yes, my heart jumped the moon, the moment I met you; the night I could never forget.