In twilight's hue, behold a sight,
A girl of twenty-eight, draped in black lace,
Her long dress, a whisper of midnight's embrace,
Over an orange garter belt, a touch of delight.
Purple garments adorn her, an enchanting array,
Like amethyst petals upon a gentle breeze,
A tapestry woven with elegance and grace,
Her presence ignites the night with mystique.
Marigold blooms, vibrant in their golden sheen,
Adorn her hair, a crown of nature's delight,
Their hues entwined with moonlit beams,
Illuminating her visage, an ethereal sight.
Candles flicker, casting a warm, gentle glow,
Their flames dance in reverence, a tender ballet,
While film grain weaves nostalgia's tale,
Adding an aura of memories in shades of gray.
The backdrop unfolds, a pond and graveyard blend,
Where tranquility meets the whispers of the past,
Reflecting the moon's tender gaze, serene,
A haven for souls resting, peace amassed.
In this poetic scene, she stands, a muse so rare,
A portrait of beauty, captivating hearts with ease,
An enigmatic aura, a story left to be shared,
A 28-year-old girl, eternally poised in poetry's decree.
CRN1.1
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