She makes me smile,
She makes me cry,
On the odd occasion she makes me sigh,
She is like a pale moon light in a darkened night,
Scaring off demons without much of a fight,
And when the sunlight banishes the world back into light,
It is with a contented smile that I rest my head in her sight,
And her fingers brush the hair from my face
And I dread the moment I shall fall from her grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem