Her Delicate Ways

Not every body knows their real persona. Some deny the truth.

The delicate ways of the woman I know.
She never complains and never moans.
Surrounded by flowers and scents of the night.
Her mystic ways give way to flight.

The beauty and aura of a woman so fine.
Whoever thought she would always be mine.
I never knew that she would shine.
So bright at night as we eat and dine.

She says, "I'm just being me, I'm not anything special"
But only I know her sway is that of a petal.