She Hath Won


One can not compare, the beauty in her stare,
or when she ponders, deep in wonder, do I look
For God is the penman, and she the book,
from a seed planted by nature, and love it's nurture, does she grow,
into a woman whose grace glitters like snow,
red torches blaze her face,
while eyes of night take their place,
even more she grows,with each new feature my heart goes,
she is a thief that came at the hours past,
who stole my heart oh so fast,
only enough time to think but one, this beauty has me,
she hath won.

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