An Ode To My Lost Love

It was perhaps a November,

Or, probably I don't remember.

The chilly winters were all around,

I met a girl! Perhaps the one to be found.

Her face was as innocent as a kid,

Hath the slightest idea of good and evil deeds.

With time, I pampered her like a child,

To love her, was a constant in my mind.

She had a little mole on her chin,

Seemed like sesame seeds on an icy white frosting.

She is one creation of the heavens,

Ah! A beauty, with real brains.

Her eyes behind her glasses,

Was a galaxy that sparkled.

Like stars in daylight,

In rivers, they do twinkle.

Her hands were the most precious,

Her touch was heavenly and gracious.

Her hands were so soft and tender,

Like the blue quilt she wrapped around her.

Her tresses were like a long black cascade,

A glimpse of the sea of tranquillity's facade.

The long claws that she grew,

Perfectly suited for that vermilion hue.

Those little ears had one single stud,

Got a few more with that last cartilage pierced.

Those little feet had argentum anklets,

Created a melodious rhythm as she laid her footsteps.

Every night I peep through my window,

And envisage into the distant hills.

A green meadow with yellow daffodils,

She sits at its end, clinging onto oblivion's bliss.

A lone wanderer passes by me,

Staring at the lady's elegance.

Asks me, "Who's that Goddess?"

I replied, "Maybe a dream who I used to caress."