(inspired by a dream I had two nights ago – written for no one in particular, that is unless you happened to have the same dream….)
“How do I look dear?” she asks sincere.
A poem simultaneously pops in my head:
Not too flashy, not to bold,
not quite vulgar, but not too old.
Not all that proper, but not carefree.
If you want my opinion it’s “just right” to me.
No – not a fashion model, you’re not a movie star.
For you to be gorgeous, you don’t have to go that far.
Others do as they will, no matter how high they set the bar,
In my eyes you are perfect, just the way you are!
Just look at me, I’m no adonis.
Not Carey Grant or John Wayne.
The fact you chose ‘me’, to be honest,
I find difficult to explain.
I say simply, “You look quite plain my love,” and she smiles and gives me a kiss. Where some may find such a compliment droll, she knows from me it is highest praise.
(yes, I think there is such a thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to physical attractiveness and the process of augmenting it or trying to achieve it. And yes, I see ‘too attractive’ as a ‘bad’ thing. Truth be told, ‘my’ dreamgirl is kind of plain)