It's Sunday, was bored, wrote something
Beautiful
Whenever someone asks me
"What does she look like?"
I always answer "beautiful"
But what I truly mean is that
Her smile makes sunflowers turn towards her,
The wind changes its course to caress her hair,
Honeybees mistake her eyelashes for flowers,
Cuckoos sing a little louder,
Envious of her voice
Peacocks merely imitate her ,
graceful dances past nature.
The sun patiently waits for her to open her eyes,
The moon escorts her home every night.
So, whenever someone asks me
"What does she look like?"
"Beautiful" is what I say with a smile.