A Woman of Splendor

Behold a woman of delicate splendor.
A woman of mystery and many passions.
Only sounds and words to ponder.
They feed my unlimited imagination.

Her passion is of intellect and of song.
Her voice enchants the weary heart.
Her soul it seems I've known so long.
Her passion alone could the oceans part.

A vision I see of her under the starry skies.
Brown hair dancing in the gentle ocean breeze.
On the coast of sweet Ireland she softly sighs.
Standing in awe among the trees.

A woman so young with a soul so old.
To know her is to be moved by her.
Her teasing and sensuality so bold.
This man's senses she does stir.

Her sweet and caring presence lights my night.
Her passion's fire must never die.
Her character so endearing and bright.
A simple soft word and it makes me high.

Little things about her this man charm.
The way she laughs, the way she moans.
She flirts, she plays, she never harms.
The way she bites her lip and lowers her tone.

What more to say, what more to describe.
What else to think, what else to feel.
Her playful innocence does not hide.
The passion and fury of life she seals.