Her beauty goes much deeper than her skin
I’ve felt it in the depth she chose to share
If beauty was a contest, she would win
But since it’s not, there’s nothing to compare
My words are weak, although I give my best
I can’t depict her beauty with my verse
I wish my words were strong and could attest
Her beauty isn’t something to rehearse
I’m tempted to be silent from now on
So that I don’t detract from her at all
But though I write, her beauty won’t be gone
All trees survive despite their loss in fall
Like flowers bloom in Spring from Winter’s sleep
Her beauty isn’t trite or just skin-deep.