Her beauty rivals even Venus in her glory.
Her sublime and bediamond smile has often rendered gods mute.
The silence remains unbroken as sainted maidens keep watch over the slumbering rose.
Not a single murmur is captured, for quiet even are the wontonest birds.
The river lords of long ago speak fondly of her stubborn soul.
Her once folded wings, once ill-formed and pacified. Now, spirited and unyielding, are patulous toward the noontide.
She is enjeweled in shadowy sounds, as she sails the tumultuous sea.
-Johnny V.
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