Poetry

(after William Wordsworth)
 
There was something strange that did draw my sight
as if she was an angel of the light,
as a apparition from heaven sent
she filled more than a single moment;
a women with her own ways and own will
but made great with some divine perfect skill.
 
Like me she was but a mortal being
but her glance and her voice made my heart sing,
right there maybe God did not intervene,
her company was sweet, somewhat serene;
a women with her own ways and own will
but made great with some divine perfect skill.
 
Her lovely bright eyes did mine squarely meet
and she was sculpted perfect to her feet,
her actions was at her will, true and free
and bright like the sun she smiled at me;
a women with her own ways and own will
but made great with some divine perfect skill.
 
[Reference: “She was a phantom of delight” by William Wordsworth.]