There was once a girl,
Beautiful but ambitious.
About choosing a man in her life,
She was over-cautious.

What she wanted was a perfect man,
A man who told no lies,
Was handsome and cheerful
And put up no disguise.

She travelled far and wide,
To seek such faultless men,
But no no avail could she reach,
Her man like heaven

Nevertheless she continued to search
The one man with qualities vast,
Who would lover her, admire her,
With a mind cool and fast

Eventually labour paid off,
The 'perfect' man she did find
He was a brilliant talker,
The hero of the neighbourhood, nice and kind.

Gasping she ran to him and said,
"I wanna make you my man.", with the effect,
That the man looked up amazed and said,
"But I was searching for the woman perfect."

A/N Found this poem innsn old diary of mine. That was a childhood silliness. As an adult I realise that perfection doesn't exist. We're all a collage of imperfections.