But she was my lover,
For a moment's time:

Like a dream no other,
In her dreamy eyes.

Her hair so suede brown,
Like sweet chocolate to the air;

Her shirt an lion's gown,
With eyes that cradle everywhere.

Her lips so refined,
As if furnaces her soul from meld:

And remention must her eyes—
Which capture god like citadel.

Oh but when she trots away,
My sadness comes to me,

My heart broken at queens' bay
Where my lover walks away.