I stood transfixed when I saw her,
The woman of all my young dreams.
Beauty compared with no other,
Will Shakespeare could have written reams.
Her dark bobbed hair lustrously sheen,
Fair skin flawless, seeming to glow.
No, never before had I seen
Female perfection head to toe.
If I waited, she’d walk away,
But if I spoke she’d think me brash.
And what words could a stranger say -
I mustn’t do anything rash.
She looked about, as if waiting
For somebody to soon arrive.
If I kept on hesitating,
She’d leave and I couldn’t survive.
I had known her all of my life,
Though we had never met before.
I had pictured her as my wife
With features I’d come to adore.
Her attire was neat and plain,
A simple dark skirt and white blouse.
Clearly, the woman wasn’t vain,
We’d need few mirrors in the house.