Classic Poem

Here I sit,
on my bus,
seated behind
a vision divine.

She is young
and beautiful.
But mostly she is
a nubile,
young thing.

She looks
a little tired,
but young at heart.

She sneezes.
Will I say
" Bless you" ?
Perhaps not.

Oh, I pine for
the days when
she may have been mine.

She is truly
a vision of
loveliness, divine.