Her skin is deeply brown with a hint of roses,

Look at her elegant walk and the way she poses.

Her eyes are deeply green with a hint of golden,

Look at how he looks at her, oh so deeply smoulden.

None can match his desire nor his sorrow,

He has not nerve to admit his heart’s a flambeau,

For his perfection, or lack thereof, is mocked

If she were to notice him, he’d be shocked.