“Dreamer of Worlds, Weaver of Wonders”

She sleeps like a philosopher, lost in thought,
Dreaming of worlds her mind has wrought.
A quiet genius, wrapped in grace,
Even in slumber, she owns the space.

Her laughter’s a melody, witty and bright,
A clever quip here, a pun done just right.
She’ll argue her case with charm so grand,
You’ll lose the debate but still hold her hand.

A thinker, a doer, with stars in her eyes,
She maps constellations, where wisdom lies.
Her intellect’s sharp, like Occam’s blade,
Yet her humor’s sweet — perfectly made.

She holds a receipt and wears a big grin,
Celebrating victories both small and within.
“Brownies are life!” she proudly proclaims,
Turning small joys into intellectual games.

By the water she stands, a curious soul,
Her mind like the ocean — vast and whole.
She’s cute, she’s funny, she’s got the smarts,
A rare little masterpiece of science and arts.