a poem from my 12 year old granddaughter, Jordan (JoJo)
"Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty."
-William Shakespeare
beauty is
the velvet of your voice,
the tinkling of a bell,
the calligraphy you scribble,
the odor of a flower,
the way you smile up at me.
death is
the perfect contingency,
the kismet we suffer,
the storm that approaches,
the shriveled rose bud,
the tears that fall down your cheek.
if death could mean
the rid of beauty,
then heaven holds
none of my interest.
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