Love poetry

She's sitting in a land of her own,
Eyes filled heart ready to be thrown..
The sand at her feet- cold,
Wanting the touch of a man of gold.

She's sitting in a robe of white,
Eyes filled heart still full of might,
The breeze in her hair- was told..
Carry that drop until she was sold
Of the words that flowed
And of the love that would mould
A night of memory.. as it would unfold.

She's sitting in a dream called reality,
The world ignorant of her fragility..
The rose in her hand- could wither
All she needs a name before it would slither.

She's sitting in a place of hope
Eyes filled heart unable to cope..
The wait seems at first- aching,
Little does she know the sound of it breaking.

Now she's sitting in a place she calls home,
Eyes filled heart waiting.. for its epic of Rome. (City of tragic love)