she is of silver and gold

she has got stories and all of them are untold

her spirit will never not wander

as her heart goes to drift and farther

beyond the horizon, over the great seas

she's unpredictable and untamable, and off she leaves

she will never not be unlovable

she went to tell of the world's resplendent fables

how she shone without reciprocation

she'd never run out of words, it's in her veins in circulation

and she will never not be loquacious;

poetry is too well

tangled

in her little soul