26 October 2012
She comes each sunny morning rise, Long hair waves round her waist. Her petite figure and mystic eyes leave the French men in a daze.
Her beauty reflects the Paris scene, The blooming cobble lanes. Each day she sits in the small cafe, A normal life, though gleams with fame.
She owns a small, yet perfect shop, 'Le Papillon' in the alley way. The women line up to see her new designs, New jewellery coming their way.
Her coloured dresses sway by her knees, Red shoes click down the streets. Her rosy cheeks and pastel lips to many people greet.
Reina, the angel of Paris, Her soul fragile with innocence. One day her beauty shall be recognised, On that I'll bet my every pence.
by vera©
Reina • Opuss № I