A Fragment of Divinity in Her Smile
There is a fragment of divinity in her smile,
A quiet whisper of heaven’s style.
It bends the light, it tames the air,
A fleeting glimpse of something rare.
Like dawn that spills in golden streams,
Her laughter hums in silent dreams.
No sculptor’s hand, no painter’s hue,
Could craft a grace so pure, so true.
The weary soul, the restless heart,
Finds solace where her dimples start.
A temple built of love and light,
A fleeting spark in endless night.
Oh, if the stars could steal her glow,
The moon would pale, the winds would slow.
Yet here she stands, so soft, so bright—
A fragment of divinity, bathed in light.