Whispers

In a white dress, ethereal and light,

She savors vanilla, her morning delight.

With pen in hand, on pink paper she writes,

Of love's sweet whispers, in gentle invites.

Each stroke of ink, a tender caress,

On the canvas of paper, her heart's address.

Words spill forth, like petals in bloom,

A fragrant bouquet, in love's sweet room.

In the quiet of morning, her thoughts take flight,

As she pens her longing, her heart alight.

The aroma of coffee, the taste of love,

In her delicate dance, she's free as a dove.

With each word written, her love takes shape,

In the soft morning light, an intimate escape.

For in this moment, in her pink paper's embrace,

She finds solace in love's tender grace.