Who's That Lady

Softly, gently, I see her standing there
I'm her shadow and she's not even aware
Of how much I long to indulge in her world
Or how much I long to give her red hair a twirl
Her umbrella blocks her provocative stare
From my gaze as I dream of her laying bare
She strolls my way with the perfume of confidence
I stand erect as she peers down with a smile
She seems to have noticed my look, my style
She's toying with a master of intrigue and guile
Yet I do not even possess her number to dial
As she passes I catch a scent of physical perfection
Her overcoat clings to her frame like interrupted protection
For one look, one glance, one stare, one chance
To be hooked, in stance, in the air, sealed with a miss
Into the night she went, gone like the airy mist
Tomorrow my obssession will not even know I exist
Yet the thought of seeing her again is eternal bliss