I don't know of its color <br />Looks like its not new <br />So deep its actual tenor <br />So light in varied hue <br /> <br />I don't know of its gentle spread <br />In ways that are quite new <br />So lilting and so finely wrought <br />It's wondrous with a cue <br /> <br />I don't know of its softened touch <br />A wisp of air that breathes <br />Unto the heart unto the soul <br />A quickened pulse that reels <br /> <br />I don't know of its tiled content <br />We often dont know how <br />The gale of hurried wishes true <br />Innate but wondering now <br /> <br />I dont know of its hard appeal <br />So right and roaring felt <br />Beneath the skin the feel that runs <br />It creeps when mind so melts <br /> <br />I don't quite know the feel divine <br />That runs within in stealth <br />But now I know that this blush is <br />The reason for true wealth<br /><br />mandara pookal<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-blush-2/
