She is beautiful.
What more could I say,
That she can break my fall
or that she can break my day?

She is innocent.
Two of us could say for sure,
One with a deep rooted irony
one with a deep affection for her.

She is determined,
at least she looks so.
Two smooth scarred hands
bring her up and put you low.

She is clever
as clever a being can be.
Vast wisdoms does she know
Grasping them with brightening glee.

She is adroit
and much to our surprise
no matter how much skill we have
in many ways she will exceed and rise.

She is pleasant
and sweet as liqorice
A good fellow for many days
helps with fervour and loves mice.

Resolute she might be.
Once the cup is overfilled,
The rage is quiet but still severe.
With words she can have your ego killed.

Individual style she has
Wanting this and hating that
Green scarf, a hat or brown horses
but a dirt in sugar pot will make her mad.

She can be scared easily
From crazy looks and creepy noises
or bugs being chewn by her pet
there's so many ways and so many choices.

But still she is fragile
a frail wing of a butterfly
Hurt her and she will truly cry
her tears then make you truly die.