When I look at her every day, Fresh as a rose In all the way.
Little she speak sometimes aloud, She is full of fire, excitement and magical mould.
She is like a flourished tree, All her thoughts may like the linnet be.
She never shuffles love with pity nor hate, Not just Beauty she is the fairest soul mate.
charm she gained was chocked with hate, Prosperity but little had dried up of late.
Mulling that, all hatred drove to fill, She recovers and learns to stand happy still.
Life-giver some time godsend creator she, pamper her and hold safe, please.
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