You were beautiful.
Beautiful not because of your eyes,
or your curvy hips,
or your lithe, sensual lips.
Beautiful not because of the colour of your hair,
or the sound of your voice
or the feel of your skin.
You were beautiful.
Beautiful because of your mind,
Bright as day,
Sweet as a mango.
The mind that read for hours in solitude
with no regard for time,
The mind that sang its happy songs
and rang a tune so fine,
The mind that danced about,
ever so merry its course,
The mind that painted love
with its full colours of sorrow and joy.
You were beautiful.
You were fantastic, you were extraordinary.
You were beautiful.
I long for that good day:
The day you‘ll be beautiful again.