![]() |
A tribute to my ideal woman. |
| Someday a new Tenant will move Into the room You left vacant, That room within My heart that’s been Empty since you And I parted. No more will its Walls be adorned With the portrait You left hanging, Echoes of your Voice will vanish, And give way to New sounds. But till that day You will remain My ideal Woman The yardstick by Which all others Will have to be Measured. So far they have All fallen short, Which is remarkable, Given how short you are. |