Windchimes

She has such an innocence,
I hurt to look at her:
Those beautiful features torment my sleep.

I'd day-dream forever:
Her crystalline laughter,
Her wonderful words and her splendid physique.

I plan chance encounters,
Passing her in my mind's eye,
She smiles politely: nods her head at me.

Though she is quite silent,
I can almost hear her:
Her timbre rings through in a fine harmony.

The most delicate porcelain,
Can hardly compare with her,
Imagine wind chimes there to beguile;

You'd wait for her, shake for her,
Enter debate for her,
If you could imagine her near perfect smile.