Alexandra seems quite shy and somewhat frail,
Leaning, like a tree averse to light,
Evasively away from her delight.
X-rays, though, reveal a sylvan sprite,
A-chatter like a bird behind her veil.

Alexandra is not one, but many.
Life flows through her boundaries like a river,
Entering her while exiting another.
X-rays show one, but we know of plenty:
Ancestors mingling with descendents;
Near relatives pouring through the sluices;
Death, the loyal angel of her graces,
Resting momently in recent remnants,
Alive again in her awakened senses.

Alexandra is chock-full of hugs and kisses.
Light goes through you from her laughing eyes.
Enthusiastic for the lilt of life,
X-raying you again for sheer delight,
Impishly surveying your disguise,
She aims right for the heart, and never misses.

Alexandra seems quite shy and somewhat frail,
Leaning, like a tree averse to light,
Evasively away from her delight.
X-rays, though, reveal a sylvan sprite,
Intense as a bright bird behind her veil,
Singing to the moon throughout the night.