Crested beauty she floats on the air,
Intoxicating sweetness our lady fair,
The sky her yard and clouds her home,
Perfumed trails where she hath roamed.
Through dark forests and sunlit trails,
Over golden peaks then tender swales,
Transforming the ground as she softly treks,
Blessing the earth with her sainted steps.
Beauty left alone is beauty undefiled,
As we gaze into the heavens all the while.
One touch is a million hands all over.
Purity is a fragile flower in the clover.
She is Venus alive with a beating heart,
A step above the embellishment of art.
When the future kissed the dew of the morn,
She arose with the sun from Gabriel’s horn.
Her eyes straight ahead affixed in her trance,
Who knows the story with just one glance?
Joy and sadness are written on her face.
Secrets hide beneath her black satin lace.
Life she has at her manicured fingertips.
Winning the smiles from trembling lips.
She is gorgeous as she passes by,
Flaunting beauty in her stride.
She is what men die for,
If they could ever touch.

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