My rock

An angels voice ,a tempests eyes

The sweetest women in disguise.

You where many masks ,

And try to take on so many tasks.

A mother, a care taker , and still time to be a friend.

From the kindest heart,

The ones from the dearest part.

Eyes so deep, the reach the soul within.

To this beauty , where shall I begin.

I fear I may not be good enough.

I fear I may not be as tough

As she may need me to be

But she can still see me.

As a man worth her time.

So I try to reach her in a rhyme.

To thank her for seeing what I can not.

To pray I can be what she needs.

To never make her repeat her pleads.

I write this once , and only once.

In hopes that someday.

That somehow I may ,

Be in my eyes , what she sees.