The Essence

The fragrance of the flowers,
Tresses like the snare of dark clouds
The walk that of the doe
And her eyes spoke volumes aloud.
Dusky not fair,her magic was everywhere
The vanity aglow till her youth was sapful
The eclat gradually waned.
the desolation pained.
She saw a crying lost boy
She embraced him to feel the loss.
It eased her agony and the boy too smiled.
The essence is not in the charm
but the elegance of the soul.