If I compare you to a sweet perfume
I would only know your gentle fragrance,
or the beauty of your fragile bottle.
I would miss the kindness of your sweet voice
and the laughter from your wit and humor.
For a scent alone can not define you.
Should I compare you to a fine, red wine?
I can admire your vibrant, intense colors,
and take in your complex, rich aroma.
I can taste your subtle mix of flavors
that age and maturity have brought out
in a way that youth stands no chance to compete.
No, even something as complex as wine,
with all the senses it fully engages,
can not start to describe in full all
the depths and fullness that pulls me to you.
You are you and no metaphor describes
all you have come to mean to me my dear.