Sui Generis

This is a poem of all the qualities in a woman that I admire.

She was clothed in a material of such cognizance
Wrapped within her bones,
It danced amply to the rhythm of her heart
In fact, certainty was indeed embroidered into her fabric
And within these sewn threads and patched lining
Poise was seen as ubiquitous

A lady, she was,
who held a colosol measure of Sui generis
in just,
the tips of her dainty fingers
And within the timelessness of her thoughts
A blue sky was left to be green
While bears were teal,
And grass would be left as peach

Chivalry,
It was woven into her cloth
It ruled her selfhood,
And assembled all of her parts
She was clothed in her own body
And her skin laid complacently,
In which, might I add,
Suited her exquisitely.

All the fabrics of her,
Including all of the stitches
Every thread and embroidery,
Tailored to all of her inches
Exclaimed, she's known who she is,
And just how she is to be
She's a perpetual illustration,
Of what extraordinary means