Her blush was the opening if spring blossoms, for it told of the opening of her heart.
It was the blush of roses, that peek of champagne pink. The colour infused cheeks dimpled with the blossoming smile and her eyes shone in a way that only deep happiness can bring.
I wish I didn't blush so fast, that I had some ability to keep my emotions to myself. In an instant my cheeks are rosy and everyone sees my feelings as if I wrote them in little notes and handed them out.
There is honesty in the blush. Our emotions are always real. So, I'd rather be this way than one of the chess players of life. I prefer being true to my nature, true to myself. Then at least if I'm on my own, I have good company.