Nothing

What should I call you?
Your eyes contain the heavens
and of clouds and stars the same;
but yet clouds bring rain,
and stars are oh so distant.

To what should I compare you?
Sweet smelling roses in a field of green
paint colors bold with beauty;
still short, stickle thorns can scorn,
no, no, no, that does not fit you.

What can I say to do you justice?
when checking so ineptly
of the wondrous world that surrounds me
I was struck with an absolute answer;
and a question to carry along with it...

What in this world is more beautiful than you?

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