Daisy
I am neither a poet nor a wise man, but I can say that looking at this young lady was like staring at an open flame: you know it’s bad for you but you can’t help but stare. Wherever she stood she became the center of the room, not because she was loud or crude, but for the same reason a fire draws the attention of those around it: its warmth. I can not begin to describe her because the issue would be in comparison…if I told you she had black hair you would compare her with other women you have known to have black hair. But those women would not have her presence, her easy laughter, or her beauty. In what manner was she beautiful? I cannot say enough, so since I cannot say enough at least I will avoid saying too much. Instead, I will only say that she was lovely.