She is the verse the heavens sing,  
Adorned in red, a royal thing,  
A vision cast in twilight's glow,  
Where only stars dare softly go.  

Her grace, a dance of whispered light,  
That turns the dark to purest white,  
In her eyes, the galaxies sleep,  
In her smile, the heavens weep.  

So fair, so bright, so unrefined,  
A beauty that both hearts and time confide—  
Yet here I stand, in awe I confess,  
Captive to her quiet, endless finesse.

With unbound hair and sun-kissed skin,
She chases sunsets, where dreams begin.
Across the fields, a vibrant hue,
Her heart alight, in shades of blue.

Through whispering woods, and valleys deep,
Where secrets of the wild are kept,
She wanders free, a spirit bright,
Embracing nature's gentle light.

The mountains call, a siren's song,
Their rugged peaks, where she belongs.
She climbs and leaps, with joyful grace,
A smile upon her windswept face.

Beside the ocean, wild and free,
She feels the rhythm of the sea.
The crashing waves, a soothing sound,
On nature's stage, her peace is found.

Each falling star, a silent wish,
To chase the sun, with endless bliss.
A soul untamed, forever young,
In nature's arms, her spirit sung.