A pome..

A fleeting image it was
Of a lady on the street;
Slender was her form,
Her eyes blue.

Moments only did I behold her,
But a lifetime they would last
In my mind's privy quarters;
For never a face such had I imagined.

Her nimble body did seem
To grace her environs;
Demure her looks, lent to her aura
An innocence that never could be real.

Alone she was in the aisle
Alone was I, not far from her;
But worlds apart were we;
The soiled creature that I am
She, an angel come to earth.

Swift was the movement that
Replaced her with a void eternal;
For what hope do I have
Of espying her again.......