The Makings of an Elf

She has an inner grace,
That makes her special,
That makes you cherish knowing her
Or even of her.
She walks - an otherworldly creature,
An ethereal beauty,
Almost divinity;
As if her human form
Is not enough
To contain the sublimity inside.
Her eyes shine,
With the brilliance of a beautiful intelligence
Trapped within mortal flesh.
Despite the elegance
Radiating from her,
She seems reluctant,
Almost resistant,
To interact with the world on it's own terms -
Every now and again,
She stumbles,
And rights herself,
As if not yet used to this form -
Removed from the world,
But part of it.
She reaches out
And touches the things around her,
As if they,
As well as her fingers,
Are entirely new things
To experience
With a wonder that takes the breath away.
She grins,
A playful, impish smile,
Twinkling eyes
You know you'll get lost in,
If you don't hold back,
Except you can't.