A paean to beauty wherever it may be found

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I’m well aware of oceans,

the pleasure they give

from being so beautifully made.

And mountains that rise up out of their surrounds,

dominating but not haughty,

with great snowy foreheads,

and cheeks from bronze to gray.

Also rivers, lakes, forests,

even grassy slopes and wildflower meadows,

not forgetting waterfalls,

the incessant rhythm

of falling straight down.

Then there’s women…

are they deserving

of the same appreciative awe?

My lover would rather be admired

for what she is on the inside.

But that’s not the point.

By John Grey