She was so different.
So charming and suave
In all her manners, grown.
As a lady she was known
She had a sense of style
In every way one could see;
Full of sassy moves,
Always a joy, to behold.
She bounced to a dreamy tune.
In the noise and the crowd.
With her private angel, what-nots
She in whispers crooned.
It was all so mundane sometimes.
She pouted her lips.
Still not knowing what joy'
Within herself She foremost seeks.
A smile playing over her
undecided lips, She speaks.
A story of herself and love
In a life so complete, so fulfilled.
She had the gait,
of one who knows the paths.
Yet mischievously she treads.
Never a flight for her too far.
With confidence in her eyes,
Happy as can be when caught
For sure she is of wriggling free,
Beware she knows all tricks and treats.
That wonder in your gaze.
Shall never cease. For;
She loves so, you can see.
But easy for you, she will not let it be
In abundant new sweetness
She everyday wakes.
That innocent blush heralds the day.
On her own wild and free, on a new way.
