The essence of beauty
Grows like a fruit on the vine
Starting as small blossom with no taste
As it ripens in maturity it begins to take shape
Still not ready to be picked it is watched till that day

Mouths begin to water, just knowing how sweet she will be
The tree line produces nothing but the best fruits
Everybody wants it, yet only one can have
A thing of beauty totally takes place
Jealousy among all men wanting
It is then gently picked
By the one gardener
The man who has all
Gets the blessing
With her