Secretly, I watched the waters of a lonely lake gesturing to a beautiful woman sitting upon its banks to touch its ripples with her painted toes.
If only I were one of the stones lying alongside such meekness, then how privileged I would be to feel her tender footsteps upon my heart.
With sheer beauty, she bore the curves of a flower gently bending upon a stem under the golden rays of a heavenly sunshine encircling the human heart with elegance and warmth.
As I stared at her from my hiding place among the hanging branches of a fruitful tree, I could not help but feel the kind of passion that gives a man the strength to love such a woman with joyful tears.
In those few seconds, she became the bride of my heart, for this was the one aspiration I could never dream in a thousand dreams, but was privileged to view in a moment that came and passed away.
She is the goddess of fantasy every man envisions behind closed doors, but to me, she was the ultimate reality I witnessed blessing the waters of a lonely lake with her painted toes.