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Her hair glittered and shone
like glinting strands of gold
or her hair jet black
in a deep sheen of ebony
Ah, witness the Creator's creativity
in beauty's rich variety

Her eyes a shade
of sparkling jade

Or her hazel brown eyes
in all the hues of sunrise.

Her cheeks had a blush
of the red of rubies
Her arms shimmered
as does diamond dust
Her skin was radiant
like mother'o'pearl
Her neck and figure
so sinuous and slender
as the diamond back snake's

The coy quiver of her lips
like blossoming tulips

Her nails one could fancy
were pink sapphire
Ah, she could be a man's desire
set his beating heart on fire

But miss terrific might be waiting for heart throbs to marry
and not just any Tom **** , Bobs or Harry

So even if you may be a lady killer
meet your match
for she may be a femmefatale!

But whether we lasses are blessed
with glamorous obsidian jet black eyes
or eyes in shades of bronze sunset skies
Or our complexion is fair or dark, or our tresses blonde or black
The credit goes to their Creator, the Fashioner, the Wise.
As each is winsome in someone's  doting adoring eyes
Bruised Orange Oct 2011
of pain and suffering many have written
of those fiery tests we've sung forlorn
this, my hymn of how i've been measured
here is my song, of experience born

plucked from the heap with sense of dread
from murky darkness how long obscured
not knowing the glory which lies ahead
we balk at the process to be endured

impurities burned away by flame
the kiss of fire does smelt us
dross once skimmed, reveals the claim
a fine treasure, with beauty ageless

though kiss of fire will burn intense
in hands of master metallurgist
how malleable we become at his bench
fine works of art, fashioned purest

now aglow with joy and praise
no longer are we bemired
singing this hearth song from hearts ablaze
with gratitude we'll next leap to the fire

i welcome the kiss, brought once more to my brow
and embrace this pain, my fashioner's distill
burn away burn away burn away now
create of me what you will


--bruised orange

— The End —