How Is It That?

O, how is it that thou,
With your eyes so blue,
Skin so fair, hair of a hue
So common yet unique,
Can allow me to peek
At thee with eyes anew?

O, how is it that I,
So malleable
In your hands, am not able
To explain the rhythm
Which my hear takes on,
Some sort of love drenched spasm
That lasts from now to anon?

O, how is it that we,
Both bright and both young,
Are not together
Exchanging wit and tongue,
To converse and cuddle
Whatever the weather?
Mind the puddle.