Fingers find a gentle pace,
the fountain purrs behind him,
and his eyes lit up with a joy unparalleled.
He hums beneath his breath,
love hangs on the window sills,
dances across the leaves
of trees before snow
flirts with the branches.
His hand pauses,
holding the page still,
and he squints at the drawing,
debating whether it looks like the reality of his love outpoured.
A smile gentle caresses his face,
and he pauses,
letting his hand stop completely,
and he admires the joy on the page,
the way her still eyes lit up
as his mind wanders to the real thing,
so pure, so gentle, so kind,
and just as amazing of a friend as one can be
His heart sings beneath the surface.