With hair like fire--
or more appropriately, autumn leaves,
ever blowing and reminding one of frivality ended--

With a smile like the sun--
though more like rain, bringing a calming sense of possiblity
and hope finally remembered after a long slumber--

These contradictions exist to parallel
a whirlwind of warmth and bitter cold
that has somehow grown to become my best friend.

With energy amassed like a fresh battery--
effervescence demanding her prescence not be ignored
or forgotten--

With an aura like night--
actually like the stars, attracting attention and affection
from the most caustic of souls--

Anything less than confidence flabbergasts me,
for this whirlwind is one that draws nothing but
respect and love.

With a best friend like a mother bear--
overly protective, always growling at
imagined dangers--

With a group like a family--
inside jokes, late nights, ridiculous stories, and plenty of
constant cuddling--

I can imagine nothing but the best for my whirlwind,
what with unbelievable exuberance, and a heart full of more love
than would be admitted in the light of day.

This whirlwind may be an average teenage girl to some,
but to me, she's far above average,
and I'm proud to call her my best friend.