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I love her azure-blue, big eyes
and those golden tresses;
wise, and with love that never dies
or wavers, she blesses.

Behind those intelligent eyes
she ponders and listens,
as I surmise she wears the ties
of saintliness that glistens.

With yellow tresses dressed in waves,
spooled and weaved in sage;
she braves the hate that enslaves,
defying its evil rage.

Sage, wise and just, she's elegant,
lovely and passionate;
she's defiant of Pride, the giant
of sins (which God must hate).

Alone, I feel the world's undone
as she's no longer real;--
that she's fiction I only bemoan,
for she's "la femme ideal."


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The following comments are for "La Femme Ideal"
by Apple

this poem paints a lovely picture. very nice.

( Posted by: johnjohndoe [Member] On: March 16, 2015 )

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