A Silk Dress

I pause in my writing and look up: A pair of eyes is brightly shining
I listen to the soft steps of someone who is stealthily walking.
The two flaps of the silk dress in the sunshine are they flying
How willowy it is, your silk-covered body, at the front door in passing.

How beautiful you are! With a daintily slender figure,
With your round forearms, and soft tapering shoulders.
Your soft back lined with melancholic strands of shining silky hair,
You sit and move with a lithe gait, your figure is so young and fair.

Who has weaved the silk that is so white and soft as such,
That is light and fragile and as cool as your skin to the touch.
And who has tailored the dress so fit for the beauty to cover
Yet it shows all the pretty curves of your ivory figure.

I remember that evening under the moonlight in shining
Bending down to lift the dress flap and in my hand lightly holding
Dreaming that I was holding the moon’s silky cords so shiny,
Silk dress was reflecting the moonlight beautifying the beauty.

The silk dress is still here, where could my old beauty be?
I am feeling sorrowful and lovingly stroking the silky creases,
Smelling the residue fragrant powder seemingly still linger
Recalling our old love so we would always remember each other!

I search again and again in the silk for your daintily slender figure
With your round forearms and soft tapering shoulders.
Your soft back lined with melancholic strands of shining silky hair…
But I can only feel the temporal love… only the little flap is there!