Her avatar is a cause célèbre,

in life a beauty to be seen,

but my anxious heart intercedes,

this image is my queen.
-

The words she writes may only seem,

smoothly flowing poetic lines,

yet in each line and each word I sense,

her tender heart still shines.
-

In her daily strife, she sometimes stumbles,

it is her one beau geste,

I am there, to pick her up, to feel her pain,

to hold her to my chest.
-

When she is happy, when she has joy,

it is our dolce vita,

I feel her passion, I hold her love,

our toast, our aqua vitae.
-

Sometimes we drink, not too much,

secrets revealed by sauce,

but our love is solid, our passion firm

it is our “in vino veritas”.
-

Then late at night, in my arms she lies,

she moans "mijn zon" in her dreams,

I am her Sun, she is my Moon.

Her name is what it seems.