She walks by
In a dashing hurry,
All and sundry
Steps aside blurry,
She walks;
Her path a red carpet,
Deserving of greeting
A pirouette,
As she passes by to leave,
If one must speak
Do not bereave,
Words uttered
Of inspirational awe,
Pristine defined
She has none a flaw,
Beautiful she tethers the world,
On a string
From her pinkie a herald,
For those in wonder,
Whom she is,
Gossip & hearsay
Silenced to a fizz,
She taps my shoulder
Lightly, hark!
Her voice a bubbly spring,
A lark,
The chosen one is I,
Perennial,
As if witnessing a
Centennial,
Off my knees,
Her friend I to be,
My face flushed a jubilee!
© okpoet