There's something in her makes me want to smile
Just looking at her - even in my mind.
Perhaps its our congruency of style,
The way that when I look at her I find
Her looking at me, crinkling her eyes
Into a twinkle of amusement, or
The way she'll, without effort, analyze
What makes me happy and provide it for
Us both - because the point I ought to seize
Is that my pleasure always seems to please
Her equally, and therefore when she's glad
It conjures up a kind of empathy
Inside of me. I can hardly be sad
When she is near - nor can she be with me.
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