On a quiet street, where whispers dance,
I saw her there, by chance,
A tall, bright light in the evening glow,
Her voice a breeze, soft and low.

Her skin, a canvas of the dawn,
In every note, a dream reborn,
The melody she wove in air,
A tender grace beyond compare.

Each song she sang, a story spun,
A serenade to the setting sun,
With every lyric, hearts would sway,
As twilight turned to gentle gray.

In that moment, time stood still,
Captive to her vocal thrill,
A fleeting glimpse of beauty’s art,
She sang her way into my heart.