Disclaimer: Tolkien's the genius, not me.
She had danced through the stars as Varda flung them through the inky sky, delighting in their delicate diamond light. She had wandered beneath the trees of Yavanna, marveling as they thrummed with fresh green life. She had taught the nightingales to sing.
But none of them had caught her spellbound as the tall Quendi king with hair like spun starlight and eyes that burned with the enchanted light of Laurelin and Telperion. She followed him through the tree shadows and listened to his deep voice rise in song.
Then she sang back, and caught him in her love-struck spell.