© Abigail H. Butkus
Listen to the Poem
She has grace like no other.
Those mysterious, blue tiger-eyes of hers pounce as you look at her glistening glimmer.
Her face, sweet as honey, pure like apple blossoms,
Confidence through her veins giving her a warrior-like complexion that rises like the sun.
Her hair, explains of sweet reason gliding as of wind and gust.
Her voice, calming and lovely as the loon's call in the mist of the night.
Every aspect of her is complete;
An image of beauty and grace,
One dreams of her nature.
Michelangelo could not capture the beauty that lies within her.
Who dares to compare?
Oh, she has grace like no other!