Whether in rags or finest gown,
dressed to the nines, or mere beach bound,
she is a sight beyond compare;
know it’s my heart on sleeve she wears.
Lovely to eye, beauty in sight,
angels trumpet, holy delight.
Scent of flower, stamen, pistil,
heaven’s revealed; true epistle.
Letter of law, as well intent,
to look on her wholly content.
When she’s in view all else grows pale;
angelic hosts, her worth do hail.
Hail and hearty, vigor of youth,
glorious lass beyond reprove.
In splendor walks amongst bright stars,
wisdom and truth she is lodestar.
Counsel worthy, lend her an ear:
True path you seek? To her draw near.
Tongue’s sometimes sharp, never intent,
she’s brightest light, incandescent.
Bathed in a light that’s whitest white,
spectrum revealed, rainbow delight.
All the colors mortal eyes see
she does transcend royal beauty.
Ode to her gown, or pair of gloves;
fortunate wear! For her they touch!
Glorious curves, ten fingertips,
elicit song, very garments.
Stars, moon and sun she does eclipse,
from high Heaven my love’s absent.
Spirits on high her created,
no mere mortals her could have bred.
True love’s raiment around her wraps,
peerless beauty, grace without lapse.
Silk, leather, lace, linen or wool
entrances she and ever will.
Fortunate are they who do spy
my lovely one sashaying by,
beauty of face, beauty of form
with clothes she dons mere cloth’s reborn.