She is Beautiful

There are times when she is beautiful.

When she drops her veils and you can hear the strength and weakness in her voice, she is beautiful.

When she loses her inhibitions and her strength pours out all over her, she is beautiful.

When she smiles as the skies rain tears of misery, she is beautiful.

When the Sun glimmers off the lonely trail of her tears, she is beautiful.

When the sweat pours from her brow as she tills the fields that sustain her, she is beautiful.

When the thought of her touch punches through the smoke-filled visions of my mind, she is beautiful.

When she thinks she is at her worst; when her hair is not kept, when her clothing is at its most casual, she is beautiful.

When she lets you see her as no one else does, she is beautiful.

There are no rules nor standards to her beauty. Her eyes light up the narrow pathways you take to get to her. Her smile drives you forward when the challenge seems too great. Her tones and inflections lift you up without you even asking, and her stoic grace brings your courage in the moments you fear the most.

It seems there are no times when she is not beautiful. What a lucky man is he she loves.