She looked much like a graceful sprite
in Botticelli's art
a lady from an age of grace
when knights stole damsels hearts
Her figure and her flowing hair
her simple, flowing dress
so classic and so haunting, too
her smile designed to bless
Yet she was just a homeless girl
whose pregnancy now showed
she sipped the coffee church folks made
her figure slightly bowed
That night I wondered why that sight
had burned and singed my heart
why had I not held out my hand
some comfort to impart?
But it was way too late to trace
my steps and ways that day
the only consolation was
to kneel and humbly pray
I think of all the souls out there
who may not have a home
a mate, a meal, a way to cope
who suffer all alone
The memory of that lonely girl
still haunts my thoughts tonight
may I tomorrow touch a soul
and spread a little light
She looked much like a graceful sprite
in Botticelli's art
a lady from an age of grace
when knights stole damsels hearts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem