WIN White Information Network (@MWeaver)

On the Beauty of White Women By Michael Weaver Pale as the first light breaking on snow, or the quiet bloom of a winter rose, their skin holds soft the morning’s glow— a canvas where the light reposes.Hair like spun gold or silver rain, or dark as night against the fair, eyes the blue of distant seas, or green as moss in forest air.The curve of cheek, the gentle throat, the way the sunlight finds their form— a quiet strength, a tender note that softens even winter’s storm.Not less for color, nor more by claim, but beauty simple, clear, and true: the same bright gift the world acclaims in every shade the light runs through.Yet here the eye may linger long on porcelain grace and flaxen flame, and find in them a living song no season ever quite the same.