Isabella turns her face,
Her flaxen hair now
grows apace
Almost reaching to
her waist
In silken flow;
Unruly, wispy, fly-away
It has to be
controlled each day
So, in one long
plait it will stay
Neat with a bow.
With something of
a graceful deer
Fleet of foot with
golden hair
She likes us all
to know she’s there
As each day starts;
Attending school
means new routine;
With look of
innocence serene
Those tumbling
locks can form a screen:
She’ll soon break
hearts!
(c) Poet in the woods 2023
The original 'girl with flaxen hair'!
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