The Woman Of My Imagination

The only place I see her is in my imagination.
She is a smart blonde with long braids.
I like her shapeliness, and she is the right size.
This woman gives me a pleasant surprise.
Maybe she is in love with me or she loves me not.
I cannot tell the way she feels about me.

She could be mean and promiscuous,
But chances are she is generous and chaste.
What difference does it make?
Everybody has good and bad qualities.
She is not the most beautiful woman,
But in the land of fantasy she is quite okay.

It does not matter if she is on a tropical isle
Or sin a densely populated metropolis,
In my mind’s eye, she is present in this room.
You may think I am talking in my sleep,
But I am wide awake in a daydream.
I shall try not to get too carried away.

The woman in my imagination is all I have.
She is not the ideal companion for me,
But she is the object of my hallucination.
I am not sulky when she is on my mind.
Even though I am unable to touch her,
She enchants my heart and that satisfies me.

The pianist is playing her favourite tune
While I am rendering a soft serenade.
Friends, I am alone in a fictitious romance.
It is useless and boring to imagine a woman,
But she keeps whetting my appetite.
Someday a real woman will take her place.


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