Beauty to me is a child's smile,
Innocence dripping from it,
Lost in his own little world,
Nothing else matters a bit.
Beautiful are his jumbled words,
Whose meaning none can decipher,
Beautiful are his little hands,
Nimble like pristine feather.
Innocence dripping from it,
Lost in his own little world,
Nothing else matters a bit.
Beautiful are his jumbled words,
Whose meaning none can decipher,
Beautiful are his little hands,
Nimble like pristine feather.
Beauty to me is my mother's face,
Waking me up from sleep,
Beauty is in her twinkling eyes,
The reassuring gaze of promises to keep.
Beautiful is the drop of sweat,
Sparking on her brow,
Beautiful is her sweet smell;
Prevailing even in the afterglow.
This post is regarding the "what does real beauty mean to you" contest.. Please check out Yahoo! Real Beauty.for taking a sneak peak into a really beautiful world...