Fix You

It was snowing, the little snowflakes very light
And the moon was glowing, full and bright.
A fair maiden, the moon that revealed,
And he saw through her thin shield.

Peacefully she lay,
And to him, it was broad day.
She was meant for him!
His heart was full to the brim.

Once inside that warm place,
Color returned to her beautiful face.
Her cheeks became flushed,
And he could feel his own blush.

He noticed something in her hands,
A precious gift, of great importance.
But it was broken, impossible to fix,
And in her hands, the pieces mixed.

So he picked up the bits, and
Clutching them in his calloused hands.
He cupped his hands together,
And blew-they flew! Gentle as feathers.

Glitter floated in the air,
Mingling and settling on her hair.
He watched, entranced,
Even his heart seemed to dance.

Her eyes flew open,
"My broken heart-you've mended!"
"Of course," He stuttered,
But his brain coughed and sputtered.

"What else could I do,
Leave a maiden under the moon?"
She softly chuckled,
Surely his knees would soon buckle!

"I had to, you see,
I think you were made for me."
He replied,
And he caught her eye.

"Yes," she replied,
My heart is yours, and yours is mine."
"I've done it! Here in this room...
"I FIXED YOU."