Anita Rover, a French model so rare, With a pretty face and a body beyond compare, Her presence lit up the Parisian night, A vision of elegance, a pure delight. Her eyes, like pools of deep, endless grace,  Her smile, a sunshine that lights up space, In every gesture, kindness would flow, A gentle spirit, a radiant glow. On runways, she'd strut with effortless style, In each fashionable ensemble, she'd compile, A story of glamour, a tale of allure, Anita Rover, so poised and pure. In cafes, her laughter would echo and ring, A melody of joy, like the songbirds in spring,  She wore kindness like the finest attire, A heartwarming aura that never would tire. Anita Rover, a name whispered with awe, A model, a soul with a heart full of raw, In the world of beauty, she stood apart, A masterpiece of nature, a work of art.