***

So beautiful, she walks the grayish streets,
Her skin so pale, her eyes so bright and seeking…
Along some dirty lost-in-time backstreets
She walks alone and thinks, and craves, and breathes…

She sings in tune with winds and misty planes,
And drops some coins into the hands of beggars,
And picks the thorns from pavements in the rain,
And turns them into blooming golden medals…

Bystanders wonder, beggars pray in peace,
The ugly grumble and the fallen whistle…
But she… something so different indeed,
She walks the streets and dreams, she needn’t listen!

And skies above her shine, the Earth beneath
Slows down and trails her steps so slow and stately…
She walks alone, for no companion lives
To walk beside a beauty so authentic!