The sun rises upon her lovely hair
Her eyes sparkle as gems ever fair
A soft smile as she looks about her
Beauty, eloquent, lovingly, whisper

The air blows about a scent of rose
For her gentle nature in clear pose
She laughs quietly, be still my heart
The lovely is my rose, never to part

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 16th of Chakros, in the year 10 AC.