She dips her brushes
Into the colours of the rainbow's
Curve,
And paints beauty, subtly,
With the warmth of her lips,
The glow beneath them,
The eyecatch of the wish meteor
That causes still;

She holds her pens
To the golds of the rays,
And draws their shining
Onto the joys
Of her heart's face
Gleaming with the oils
Of her happy canvas,
She is a gem that stands out
From the abodes of the gallery;

She is an infectious sweetness,
The brightness
Of the midnight crescent
With the firmament's sparkles,
In the picture of mind,
The gift of her flower blossoms,
And to the fairy touch
Of her magical wand,
I glee at her thought.