“Loving a girl who’s taller than me (She’s 5’10”), has the prettiest blue eyes, the most beautiful smile, and blonde hair.”

To love a girl who towers tall—five-ten in dappled sun—  
Is like reaching for the highest star, feeling that I've won  
A gentle kind of wonder each time I see her face,  
A golden crown of sunlight, her laughter full of grace.

Her eyes—celestial sapphires, oceans clear and wide—  
Hold stories told in glances, where secret worlds reside.  
In her gaze, I find myself both brave and oddly small,  
Yet strong enough to stand beside, and never fear to fall.

Her hair is spun from summer—wheat and honey's hue—  
It catches every sunrise, a shimmer in the blue  
Of skies that match her irises, that sparkle when she grins,  
Her smile like a melody where every sweet hope begins.

And if my reach falls short of hers, I still would climb the sky  
To brush the strands of sunshine she wears as she walks by.  
Though difference might be measured by inches or by height,  
Her beauty stands in laughter, in kindness, and in light.

So let the world look upward—the view is worth the bend;  
For love is not a number, but the way our spirits blend.  
With hands entwined, I’ll always find a perfect place to be:  
Loving the tallest girl on earth, who stoops to cherish me.

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