The Myth

A myth that no one could prove,

A sensuous grace adorning her every move,

With a laughter that was serene yet musical,

A woman so perfect and beautiful.

Her Kohl lined eyes caused sleepless nights,

Over her beauty, many fought bloody fights,

One's fate no one can foretell,

Yet she could, for her smile was an enchanting spell.

Her beauty was both within and without,

She was like the first sprinkle of rain after a long drought,

She was an enigma yet she was simple,

When she looked at you, her eyes, would always twinkle.

She could make the starlight’s blush,

Her gentle caress, a stroke, from an artist's paint brush,

Her existence a carefully calculated chess move,

She was, and is, a myth that no one could prove.