A vision of beauty, coolness, and grace;
Wafting like a leaf in an autumn breeze;
With golden-wheat hair embracing her face;
A voice melodic, reciting with ease.
Standing before me, the girl of my dreams;
I expound with poetry how I feel;
In a deep sub-conscious torrential stream;
I approached her hoping her heart to steal.
I asked if this weekend, she would be free;
She swore on her credit card, all it’s worth;
A date, she would not consider with me
Be it so, I were the last man on earth.
Be it true, I were the last of my kind
I would not, dear girl, allow you in line.