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Click hereI did but see her passing by
And yet I love her till I die
Written word describes the scene
Between the lines the author's seen
In the mind of the reader, in an act of faith
I render her image, a transparent wraith
And as she writes, her phrases are knit
My specter enhanced and deftly outfit
The garment sewn by simile and metaphor
Conceals her form, but feels like I saw
Her secrets concealed, she protects her nethers
The writing arranged as burlesque feathers
The readers yearn, but what's offered to each
Is but a phantasm, out of reach
I did but see her passing by
And yet I love her till I die