Magic is what happens when the sun rises

Magic is what happens when the birds chirp

Magic is what happens when I roll over to see her beautiful face

Her hair spread against the pillow,

Her face shadowed with the breaks in the curtains

Her body covered with the fluffy clouds of the comforter.

She reminds me of a roaring sea,

Her gentle strength as she arises from the sheets

Her gentle strength as she smiles, even after everything that has happened to her

Her gentle strength as she commands a room full of people that she could be afraid of

She reminds me of a roaring sea,

Her eyes that are waves with both the sea and the crest swirling within

Her back and how it expands with every deep breath

Her hair curly and rippling in the wind

Magic is within her