A giggle, a smile, a short red hair,
and a face of serenity;
through nature, time & age.
Her, I, is Inner as beauty of a tree,
Reluctant to show,
in a shy simple way.
Intimate like secrets
of late night talks
and how she laughs
so radiant
Needless of time,
nor even space.
And though she speaks
and stumbles,
then smiles so pure,
she never ceases
to Astonish, charm,
and with love…
'neatly' cure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful tender thoughts well written cheers