She Was lying supine facing the sky
Her heart in solitude with no design
Her story plainly crypted
Her aurora so beautifully scripted
The blossom of her idyllic smile of vines
Golden rich
held my heart to mend
The sweet feeling free to never spend
Beneath the sea so perfectly aimed
The euphoria of her laugh a high pitch
Reaches above the forest of scented pines
Her hair an umbrae of a soaring shrike
There to my heart strike
Her eyes selfishly alluring of sunset rust
Her balletic grace mildly unjust
The susurrous waves a seashore ripple
There to whisper what appears fable
The ocean a self made lagoon
There to sing her a sing along tune
Written across her sky of summery air
Reminds my heart to be kind
For her innocence is purely fair
There to conscious my mind
This to me is her story
Oh Adaly