she’s the sound of thunder,
amidst the lemming rain

she’s the smell of salt,
when she sees another’s pain

she’s the taste of lemon,
when she knows you’re playin’ games

she’s the feel of wind blown hair,
when she holds your hand, unafraid

she is beauty personified,
her humble heart on display

she’s the best kind of madness,
and I get to love her everyday