Black is the color of my true love’s hair
Dark is the color of his eyes.
I long to caress his skin so fair,
And sooth his saddened cries.
Shadows reside under his mask
Of anger, contempt, always aloof.
What they’re from I fear to ask,
For he might slip and tell the truth.
He acts so cruel to me and mine
Yet to hate him, I cannot.
His voice so smoky, like sensuous wine,
Washes over me at a thought.
I look and see his hawk-like face
And all I behold is elegance.
The way he moves just exudes grace
And his mind is filled with brilliance.
I wish that one day as past me he glides
That he will take notice and see.
And I will know what that dark surface hides
And let my love know me.