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The magic in her eyes sparkled like jazz hands.
Something deep within my soul began to tap dance;
as the corners of her mouth leaped towards her cheeks,
with the grace of a ballerina her smile premiered like a split leap.
Mesmerized by her bespoken smile,
I was obliged to extend a smile.
She looked as if her chocolate skin had been sun-kissed with Hershey’s Kisses,
her countenance was such a treat.
Her eyes had their own language,
we never had to speak.
I adored her eyes;
I would say to myself “what a beautiful language to speak.”
We met every morning on the train,
I looked forward to her ballet performances,
every morning on the train.
We exchanged smiles everyday,
there was magic in her smile.
I never knew her name,
I just referred to her as Girl with a Smile.
Picasso had Girl with a Mandolin,
I had Girl with a Smile.
Remember to be happy,
you never know who’s falling in love with your smile.
–@StevieStreets | Girl with a Smile
steviestreets.wordpress.com 