Oh how the trees can sway,
To your magestic stance,
How the leaves can spin,
And do their little dance.
The birds of the air hear your voice,
And sing to the air on your approach,
The squirrels scurry as they go,
Hurrying as they carry their broach.
As a crowd hurries to see you,
They stand there captivated,
On how your lone lovely presence,
Was never fabricated.
Oh how these striking words,
Defy the reality of your amazingness,
And they never coincide,
On how you're better than the best.
As the world's jaw loses it's gravity,
The sun peers to see,
Oh how the stars spring brightly,
For you Melanie.
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