Words have made me dumb
For none can speak my heart.
Yet, I hurt my thumb,
Gestures can not play a part
To bare these fervid thoughts
And stifle the lingering pain
When I think, it shoots;
Oh! I hurt and in vain.


Your smile, like a smart lie
Tickles all my senses;
The catchet I can not deny
With my goose pimples.
Your sclera is as polished wool
Dotted by a patch of night;
A wise man and a fool
Know it is a glamorous sight.


For your nose I could gig;
Not big and not small,
Both small and big.
Like petals on a wall,
Your ears make the rings shine,
Ears as smooth as crease.
When on ears other than thine,
The worth of the rings decrease.


Needless to mention your legs
With which you amble with flair,
And your hips like palwine kegs
Perfect as oxygen in the air.
Your voice sounds as driblets
On a metal terrace
And soothes as torrents
After a marathon race.


Now that words have failed
And gestures do now betray
It seems my tongue is tied;
My fingers fumble to foray
Into speech so bleak
As I drool and wink...
Do I hope on what is weak
To make my message sink?




Do review this, thanks: cc Obinnau HumbledbYGrace

Beautiful.
The most enjoyable part of your poem is your tone. And of course, your mood. An appreciation of your lover's looks and your hopeless failure at expressing it in words or even action.
This idea in itself, I believe, is the driving force of the whole poem- the limitation of human expression. It leaves the reader with the impression that you haven't even now -with this poetic means- expressed your feelings about your lover's look, and this make it(your poem) all the more, ingenuine.