Those eyes of length so small and meek
They’ve kept quiet for time long now
Whispers of lengths they speak.
I seem to comprehend them somehow.
With curls sprawling down her face
She attempts to push them away,
While her bangles chime a tone so sweet
Every now and then, making their own melody.
And smile, oh she does, in the most charming ways
Interestingly, soon her cheeks are engraved.
In no time do her eyes diminish infinitely.
Oft do I catch her humming alone
Singing of her lands and people living afar
Preparing delicacies like none other
Wooing people with a type of charm that’s hers.
As she prepares to grow older each day
Her skin folding in numerous ways and shapes.
The beam in her eyes still strong though
And yes her smile, evidently that only seems to grow.
A Fuchsia Melody.
A person who I cannot thank more for having me in her life.