:16:04
I haven't found her yet,
I seek her even more.
:16:10
I don't know what she's like
and yet her image is clear.
:16:15
I have a name for her,
her voice is in my ear.
:16:20
I've sketched her silhouette,
the face I'm dreaming of.
:16:26
The portrait that I've done
is the very image of love.
:16:32
She is as gracious
as only romantic girls can be.
:16:37
A Botticelli beauty
with such eyes, such poise.
:16:43
In profile she is like
those virgins of mythology
:16:48
Who haunt museum galleries
and the dreams of teenage boys.
:16:55
Her stride is so much like
a childhood memory
:17:01
That passes my mind's eye
lilting, dreamily.
:17:06
Her hair pours down her brow
like torrents of pure gold
:17:11
Round which wind, sea and sun
quarrel for a hold.
:17:19
I could tell you
of her hands, of her eyes.
:17:24
I could go on and on
until the next sunrise.
:17:29
She is my only love,
but what good is a dream?
:17:36
I've searched all over
but she's nowhere to be seen.
:17:43
He could tell us
of her hands, of her eyes.
:17:50
He could go on and on
until the next sunrise.
:17:55
She is his only love
but what good is a dream?