No mere wallflower is she
A fresco of absolute womanly glory
Who needs no man’s asylum
No dowry she totes except her sword
Which can slice through haggis with ease
Her ice blue eyes make many hearts swoon
Her charisma blazes kinetic images
On the tundras of many souls
Her smile can even freeze a gnomon
Her every movement and action a poetry of rhythm
Her dialogue so so 90ish for her time period
Who is she, you keenly ask
Why, my dear reader, don’t you watch…
Xena, Warrior Princess?
© L. Kupfer
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