Erica

The smell of fresh roses,
Accompanied her footsteps,
Wafting up from below,
Connected by a wooden strung ladder.

There was a flash of her elegant blue dress,
Illuminated part by the moon,
And part from the radiance cast by her hair;
A scintillating beautiful blond.

Her features were accented by the night,
Skin as smooth as the silk of her scarf,
Eyes a sparkling blue like her sapphire necklace,
Her beauty casting a shadow on the gem itself.

I tried to call out to her,
To tell her what she still meant to me,
But try as I might with all my will,
I could not for I was only ethereal.

And so she sauntered past out my sight,
The radiance of her glow slowly dimming,
Leaving me to wake up with nothing,
But the fading smell of fresh roses.