She looked upon him well
I knew one who had a youthful ambition and lived through a winsome childhood. He had wolfish tendencies but was decorated with a womanlike loveliness. Something strange for a boy to have and his father, being very tiresome of his flute loving ways, tried every way to strip such qualities away from him. He had a virgin's grace, a kitten's soft eyes, and a vain contemplation. He had an unwavering allegiance to his dreams, and never possessed any intentions of being offensive. When spoken with, one could only imagine his words for it sipped like the dripping rain into the pitfalls of one's argument. O, such a boy was loved and loathed under heaven.
One fashionable girl, who was very far from looking wrinkled like a dried apple loved him wonderfully, and wholly. She met him on a day by a curly stream, where little songbirds come to perch and dine. They stayed by him without the slightest nerve nor care about their welfare, for they felt as she soon felt because of the feather like welcomeness that emanated from him. He played his flute as she had never heard it played before. Not even Apollo with his lyre could draw an audience away from him.
She watched him as good as any girl would, who being in the presence of one who was beyond fanciful for the simplest of reasons, and one who blended in with the attractiveness of the summer colours. Her girly eyes turned pearly, and soon it became diamonds as he looked her way with eyes blazed like the mid day sun. He spoke not, but she experienced his words fall upon her moist skin as soft as rain. And he sat among the daisies with all the complacency of a housed cat.
He looked upon her well but his gaze was as vague as a dream. She blushed away for her cheeks became as red as the mute roses. Then the girl noticed another young blooming girl whose favour are like the soft summer winds that kisses everything it meets, lie next to the one whose fragrance had erased the creased monotony of her existence. She looked well at her and thought herself to be of no competition. She thought herself to be but the flames of a caved candle, and the girl who anchored by him as the flames that burns deep within the sun.
It was as if all darkness came upon her as she witnessed her lips folded into his. All of her intentions were now dashed against the rocks, for her mission was to come and declare to him her earthly love. Her face became like the dead flowers, and her heart as the water in winter.