flowers grow around her feet,
when she walks on cobbled streets.
a dainty ivory countenance,
and delicate pale hands.
not a single black stain on her,
except straight ebony hair.
her laughter resonates like chimes,
she smells of old books and pines.
rosy lips sip lemon tea,
dark eyes as clear as light seas.
deft fingers write with stardust,
a sweetie pie with a perfect crust.
besides a writer, she's an artist too;
a musician, a joker; what else can she do?
a lover of animals and raindrops,
finds happiness in a plant ***.
made of sun rays in the days,
stars and moonlight at nights.
adores the winds and skies;
she makes gray hellos into colorful goodbyes.
...
the little fairy, made to wear flower crowns
the nature's princess, that's what she is
if i wrote what i love about her
it'd be a never-ending list

well

...

I was pickin a diddly
on my gittinfiddle
the other day

'cos, well...
I'm a gittinfiddler

and as soon as I gripped
my fiddler
and picked,
just hard enough
to tickle the diddly-hole
a little bit
all of the sudden
it
let out
the single most
gittinfiddlediddliest
sound
that had ever
violated
my tender
juicy
ear holes


**** was crazy

anyways,
I didn't miss a stroke
as I fiddled out
the remainder
of that diddly
on my gittinfiddle
with my fiddlediddler
right in the sweet spot
...

just far enough
from the diddly-hole

and the result*
was
******'
gittinfiddlediddlilicious

Way I feel for you
Purple in rare mountain sky
Peak of lilacs bloom