What is enchantment, my dear?

Is it how I go misty looking deep into your eyes?

Or the way I glance at my hand in yours

In sweet disbelief that it is truly my own?

What is beauty, my dear?

Is it the aura you radiate by letting your true self shine?

Or the warm nature of your touch

That you send running through me?

What is trust, my dear?

Is it the wisdom to look beyond the evils of lust?

Or knowing that you chose me

Out of a crowded sea of intermingling beauty?

What is compassion, my dear?

Is it how we both rely on our equally grounded shoulders?

Or the unconditional support you shower me in

Come crisp December moon or fiery July heat?

What is tenderness, my dear?

Is it the way your arm sweeps over me as pure as the Falls?

Or the soft kisses we have shared

Steadily sealing our lives together?

What is love, my dear?

It is a puzzle I can only assemble with you

Some pieces go hand in hand; others take time

It is the supreme force present and natural to all