My Beautiful Thing

You are the weak dawn rays of Sunday, gleaming.

You are the first rich taste of coffee, steaming.

You are vivid tales of midnight wonder, dreaming.

You are stars on winter nights, ethereal-seeming.

You are chocolate cakes and dates, a turquoise ring,

You are autumn leaves, sea breeze, and when birds sing,

They sing of you. As we all do, my sweet darling.

You are a little bit of every beautiful thing.