Is it Beauty?

by Donn Ronquillo

So timid,
Still has no limit.

Her expression,
Sets a sensation.

A deep feeling,
With no stressing.

Of what is pure,
Still is not too sure.

Like the spring,
Her beauty had no strings.

Much like a dove,
Who has my love.

So soft and white,
Still is out of my sight.

Many wants to own;
Like hot steam,
No end to where it's going,
Or maybe doings.

So what is beauty?