She spritzes her honeydew perfume from head to toe,
even a dropp on her ankles.
I dare not ask why.

Each strand of golden hair shimmers,
flowing in what seems an effortless arrow
down towards the small of her back.

Her eyes are smoldering puddles of blue
amidst clouds of smokey black coal.

And she, armed with much bait and tackle,
sets out for another late night fishing trip,
casting nets and lines in hopes for a bite.

Amanda Lukas

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fishing-for-compliments/