In the gentle breeze of morning light,
Her hair dances, wild and free,
Golden threads in the sun’s embrace,
A tapestry of dreams unfurled.

Soft whispers in the evening glow,
Cascading waves of shadowed grace,
Each strand tells tales of ancient lore,
In the quiet hush of night’s descent.

Through storms and calm, it flows unbound,
A river of silk that knows no end,
In every curl, a secret found,
A story woven, never bent.

Hair like whispers, soft and true,
A crown of beauty, ever bright,
In every hue, a world anew,
A timeless dance of day and night.