The Best View. Poem by Nicholas James Warburton

Her hair was auburn like the tree's in autumn,
She smile as bright as the stars at night,
She asked 'Why are you looking at me? '
Her hazel eyes were deep and expressive,
And skin as soft as silk,
She repeated 'Why are you looking at me? '
With a short smile I leaned towards her,
With gasp as she took my breath away,
I replied with my forehead lent against hers 'Because baby, you're the best god damn view.'