Her sweet innocence astounds me,
as she picks assorted flowers by the brook.
Her raven hair cascades about her shoulders,
and she has such a natural look.
She chooses each flower with care,
they need not be perfect in size,
and each one she picks with careful thought
adds a brightness to her deep dark eyes.
A honeysuckle vine, she weaves into her hair,
and she gives a laugh outloud,
because to her she looks just fine,
to her she feels bold and proud.
If her looks do not seem right,
for those who choose to view,
she knows that there are those who see,
her beauty clear as the morning dew.
Natural beauty, so at ease,
not wanting to be false.
Oh, if you choose her not to love,
you'll find yourself at loss.
Albert Joe Hickerson
Copyright �2001 Albert Hickerson
