She said, “To be pretty for you I have dropped two seeds of turnsole in the dark of both eyes.” He was suddenly taken aback as her words seemed to cause his heart to crack. Surely such words were not coming from her, as he had spoken of her beauty many times. He studied her, wondering how she could not have realized how he adored her— that her beauty was only an ornament. He softly took her in his arms, and pressed her close. Leaning back, seeking any expression or speech that could convey his truest feelings to her, he pulled her to him again. She seemed unresponsive, stiffening, as if unable to believe his words.
“No tincture of magic was ever needed. There is nothing in this world that could in any way compare to my love for you, just as you are.”
***
Prosery: Through the eyes of Isabel Duarte Gray
The Bag Lady 
You make an excellent statement, that “beauty was only an ornament.” Sadly I think too many believe the ornament is all 😦 A symptom of a sick society.
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They don’t look beyond it
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that is gorgeous Cheryl! ❤
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Absolutely no adornment necessary Cheryl, lovely writing…
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Thank you
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This is incredibly evocative! I love the message conveyed in this prose piece, sigh .. it’s a rare thing to be loved for what we are in times like this. Thank you so much for writing to the prompt ❤️❤️
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Thank you, I appreciate your words
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I so love the message in this story, that he loved her for herself not her beauty. Wonderfully done.
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Thank you much!
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I loved the last part. The tincture of magic!
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