She’s bitter-sweet, or maybe sour or sugary;
She’s like a pickle, dipped in chocolate seas;
She’s like an ocean of calm, but often seething,
Like ice cream, mixed with mustard – tasty, surely.

She’s cute as panthers, tame as lions, kind as rhinos;
But whether savage, ornery or sweet –
Of all my lands and kingdoms she’s a Queen;
She is a girl – for “loud out crying…”

The humor is, perhaps, a bit abstract,
But simply put – she’s her, a Queen, a Lady;
And simply perfect – any era, any language,
And lovable, though luckily – not tractable…

To find another – quite impossible, to wit:
She’s more than all the verses on my palette.
For an adventurer’s insatiable palate,
She is a Goddess. We’re Gods – and meant to win!