Suzie's Mystery
Her face is not the sparkling mien of an angel
And her hair is not as hard as a horse’s mane,
Her gait is easy to predict and it’s nothing close
To the cat-walked strides that beauty models feign.
Her shy smile will send chills down your spine
But it cannot rival the practiced grins of a socialite,
She does not intend it but her cooing will drive
The most deadened stoic into a bout of sensual appetite.
She’s not any reincarnated ancient goddess
And she’s never thought so highly of herself,
Humility her weakness and coyness her strength;
Suzie disdains the quick girlish tempers of an elf.
With other pretty girls she does not herself compare.
Pageant judges can never fully unearth her limitless splendor
That puts hibiscuses and chrysanthemums to easy shame,
And makes all roses look uglier, and every peony feel less tender.
Suzie’s brimming beauty no fabled nymph can ever attain,
Though her humble aim is to remain hearty and ever plain.
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