She was my amoureuse,
a lover of dance,
her dance a captivating trance
and I, enthralled by her every move, entranced.
Graced imbued her every movement,
each step a declaration meant solely for me.
Her words, light as a feather, graced her lips,
her essence still beyond comprehension,
destined to be adored.

She was elegance,
I must confess.
Poised like a blooming flower,
resisting the temptations of modern ways.
Her innocence radiated in acts of love,
I often found hard to believe.

Love encompassed her very being,
and my heart was bound to loving her, solely.
She hid her affection with the pages of deluded books,
yet here she was, nestled in my embrace,
such moments seemed beyond belief
even then, all I could do was love her, alone.


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