she

she,
with the sirius in her eyes;
freshness of spring in her breath;
morning sun on her lips;
when sways hair over her face
gives heartbeat a pause.
and
her fragrance
entice the autumn to bloom
swivel the first breeze of spring.

she,
strums the unknown chords in me;
treads into the unruffled vast;
lingers in my eyes;
and
casts a spell with her smile.

Yet
the enigma still lives
the silence ever so loud
whoever said "silence is golden"
not here at least
and the words lie scattered.