Her hair was wet from rain
And tiny drops, like pearls, were gazing upon her skin
Her eyes were closed, then - dreaming, she looked down
Gentle hints of green and gold;
Like sunlight cast on shimmering waves
Came as a silent warning
Her eyes, truthfully, were as fierce as emeralds
Neatly yet passionately cut from the stone...
And her lips... were those of pleasant shade
That dare make many roses blush
Her face was framed by lush-like curls
That dangled in a subtle brown
But no newborn Goddess could compare
Because, most importantly,
It was her inner light that captured my heart
Because beside her elegance, she was wiser than she was fair...
© Kirstin Linnenkoper 13 november 2007
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