Glorious and full of splendor
Satisfied with softness and tender
Though fragile like a baby in a womb
Hallowed like the one raised from a tomb
There tall enough for every view stands her
The last of her species immaculate and rare
Rare to be seen like an angel the luck knowing her would say it was in a trance
Or somehow it was by chance
The world is not her place to be called home
A fantasy world citizen a friend of gnomes
Full of wonder noble women can’t surpass
A Britain dweller would say she is of a high class
And that is a matter of alignment
With reality
A friend
Of truth will testify that the word beauty
Kills her essence
Beyond human description are her looks
She’s got taste
Ooh! What she cooks
Amazing the world says in awe
A lion can roar
A zebra can run
Nature can take everything in one
Just for a losing competition
Wow! What a dame
And
An
!
Exclamation
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem