The Sheer Beauty That Was Her

“Sir, would you like another coffee?”
“No, thank you. Just get me the cheque please.”
His eyes still remained fixed outside,
His hands on the table alongside the 4 empty cups.

He sat there every day,
And placed the same order
He would look out the window overlooking the street,
Sitting all alone with his eyes focussed, not letting them wander.

At this time a tall slender figure would walk out the bank,
Her delicate hands holding a purse, file or putting away her black silky locks,

She would walk cautiously to the parking and away from his sight
And he would keep staring at her, looking at her through the wall of glass, always dressed up

As if he got ready everyday to go and talk to her
But never had the courage enough so would simply sit and gaze
Gaze at her sheer beauty, and at the grace she had
He had once even met her but it passed too early as he was in a daze

Since then he had crossed her path once,
But she hadn’t recognised her,
Why would she remember the small encounter, he wasn’t so special
And in spite of that, he to this day, after months, still sat by the window simply to marvel at the epitome of beauty that was her..