You’re the apple of my eye, O mon chéri.
Your soft voice is like a mourning dove’s coo,
gentle and smooth.
An angel whispers in your talk,
child like giggles you give.
The morning sun is your temper.
You hold no angst, no grudge.
Why are you so beautiful, mon chéri?

Your love for me is like the sky,
vast and infinite.
I am your Cinderella,
you are my prince Charming.
Your love makes me bloom,
you are like Spring.
Your velvety touch makes my heart chime.

Je t’aime, mon chéri.
[I love you, my darling.]
Such a beaut you are to me.

~Jessica