A slender wand of color, a touch of velvet grace,
The final stroke of magic upon a smiling face.
In a case of gold or silver, it waits to play its part,
A tiny piece of armor for a woman's daring heart.
From the softest shade of petal, a whisper of the rose,
To the deep and dusky crimson that everybody knows.
It tells a different story with every single hue,
Of a spirit that is ancient, or a feeling that is new.
The Classic Red of fire, a flame upon the lip,
With the power of a kingdom in a single, steady grip.
It speaks of bold ambitions and a gaze that never veers,
A shade that conquers shadows and a tint that masks the fears.
Then the Nudes and peachy corals, for a morning in the sun,
When the day is just beginning and the work is never done.
A natural reflection, a glow so soft and light,
Like the first pale touch of dawning that ends the quiet night.
It isn't just a pigment or a waxy, colored stain,
But a shield against the worry and a balm against the rain.
With a press of the mirror and a glide across the skin,
The outer world is ready for the beauty from within.
So wear your color proudly, let the world behold the sight,
Of a smile painted perfectly in shades of pure delight.