The Beauty of her hair

I watch it drift and roll in the wind, like a light feather
it kept floating and flicking as the air cause it to tumble along.

It fell down her back like liquid
or a waterfall that crashed at the base in a flash of curls.

I wondered whether the sun was as bright
like the amber colour that sparkle from every flame that flickered.

No one wanted the flames to stop burning
cause they lit her up like a fiery phoenix that blinded anyone who watched.

The waves clashed against her skin, from the pale colour
to the golden colour of the flicker of flames that reached out.

This was the beauty of her hair
and it was a beauty worth to be watched by all that dared to watch. 

The End

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