If you asked me what I love,

I would answer quite simply, beauty.

But if instead you asked for my definition of beauty,IMG_4534

then I would have to say…

It’s butterflies that flutter by

a marshmallow-speckled sky;

bees buzzing ’round lavender stems,

and the lacy edges of petticoat hems.

It’s puppies snuggling to keep warm,

a caterpillar taking on a new form,

a little girl’s elbows resting on daddy’s head,

and powder blue sheets on a summer bed.

It’s the belly chuckle of a baby,

the off-chance that maybe,

swimming naked in the ocean,

and letting yourself go to its steady motion.

Beauty is in everything

that moves your spirit to laughter

and even still it is your face that glowsMoulin2

for quite a while after.

It’s breathing sighs,

lovers’ lies,

a breezy whisper in your ear,

and the wiping away of a lonely tear.

It’s the sun shining on your face,

the frailty of the human race,

secret wishes on shooting stars,

and humbly bearing all of life’s scars.

It’s the purest of intentions,

the basest of inventions,

the bold swing of pride,

and what the hell, just going along for the ride.

Beauty is in everything

that stirs your voice to song,

and even still it is the people

who feel your words and sing along.

It’s in the rise of the downtrodden,

the remembrance of the long forgotten,

the eternal struggle to be free,

and the basic need to just hug a tree.

It’s opening your eyes to a glorious sunrise,Moulin3

the thought that lay hidden behind the surprise,

the flicker of a candle flame,

and blushing at the mention of a sweetheart’s name.

It’s waves crashing on solid rock,

the bright colours of my favourite frock,

the brushstroke of a master painter,

and past dark patches growing fainter.

Beauty is in everything

that softens you to tears

and even still it’s the compassion

you feel for all your peers.

Beauty is in everything.



                                  (Poem: The Eye of the Beholder, © Natasha Dumas)