She is like a princess.
Her poem is priceless.
Beautiful flowers blooming.
A rose kept in a glass casing.

The bees start stinging.
All those who are caught staring.
There’s a thousand words to say.
Her beauty leads the way.

No matter what they say.
She couldn’t have imagined.
That her poem would be created.
On her beauty’s terms.

After all,
Hanging on a brick wall
A mirror confirms
That she is the fairest of them all.

If you don’t recognize her beauty.
You will be attacked by something spooky.
Even though we haven’t been talking.
I pray that she will enjoy reading.