She was not pretty. In fact, she looked so plain that you could pass by her on a road without noticing her at all. Oh and I forgot to mention, she was clumsiness personified. You would usually find her apologizing to people, pets and things that she bumped into. But remember what they say about appearances? Hers was deceptive too.
Beneath the mask of her face was a golden, resplendent heart and a fiery soul. Beyond the first, casual, cursory look, she was a rare work of art, waiting to be discovered. I saw her one day, admiring a rose struggling with the snow, determined to blossom. I saw how she inhaled deeply, with her eyes half closed, as if she wanted to steal the fragrance from the half bud, half flower and claim it for herself; I saw the way her cheeks bloomed with the same rosy hue; then she opened her eyes and they shone with an ethereal light,one that reminded me of a moonlit sky and a starlit sea.
She was a beauty that permeated my skin to reach somewhere deep in my being and nourished my starving soul. She was not pretty at all, yet she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes on.
Painted In Words 