Beautiful

Where is beauty to be found?

Is it truly in the beholder’s eye?
Does it really only run skin deep?
Can it be rescued from yet another cliché 
Or broadened still from horizon to horizon? 
Is it merely a pregnant pause?
A moment of quiet reflection in 
An otherwise horrid, insidious day?

Can it soothe the beast?
Calm the Storm? 
Or is it the actual storm itself 
Sequestered in a lace-trimmed veil, 
Stalking tree-lined streets of gold 
To rest beneath my windowsill?

Or is it you, my sweetest one? 
Are you my beauty, draped with grace? 
Would darkness fill me were your face 
Not burned into my memory?
I could not, 
Would not want to know.

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Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent