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WHO WAS SHE I intuited the radiance before I even laid eyes on her Moving with a self-assured poise that came from deep within was a quintessence of a woman of ageless assurance and beauty What WAS it? That layered her with a divinity, incomparable sensuality redefined Captivated by her timeless elegance reading her essence as an omen From her brushed golden hair reflected specks strewed my path Tossing my brushes and canvas aside On this one great all-consuming quest I pursued her like an artist possessed An apparition the likes of which I only but dreamed the Universe I had implored ‘Help me to find … and achieve’ My Masterpiece had manifested Who WAS she? I followed her down winding cobbled streets through quaint little parks unhindered … free of the bustle and chaos of city life Several times, she lingered Breathing the intoxicating fragrance of rambling roses Elegant fingers caressed purple lavenders that abundantly grew. From her rosebud lips on wings of fluffy dandelions her playful wishes flew Fairy floss clouds drifted ~ melting into endless blue skies An old Oak offered respite as she reclined enjoying the sweet scent of serenity ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ they say I looked through hers and marvelled at what Nature had to offer The Quintessential Component of Time stood Still for us So entranced in that magical moment was I when a discordant cry - of a raven broke the spell Startled she turned Our eyes met ~ mortal sparks igniting ‘Be still my beating heart’ ~ I implored but it mockingly laughed Hovering playfully on sensual lips a smile danced as she beckoned On feet that grew wings I involuntarily flew Who WAS she? In a sweet, tinkling, teasing voice, she said “I’m quite aware that you have been following me”. Stunned - I just stared – rendered speechless by her porcelain skin her sun-kissed hair, her sparkling jewelled eyes her rosebud lips I lived ‘the moment’ where words were futile “No matter, sweet artist” “you want to paint my portrait - Don’t they all?” Rummaging through her handbag, she pulled out a business card and handed it to me “Come see me,” she said as she gently floated away. I looked at the card. Lariese Like music to my ears Lariese A vision without flaws Elicits the question ’Did it make her the woman she was?’ Surfacing aesthetically the radiant beauty of her natural glowing skin must also come from deep within By Maria Williams ©
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