The Catwalk Queen
In a darkened room deep in the crowd
A familiar tune, the music’s loud
Spotlights dance around the stage
With knowing glance, I turn the page.
I see her and she’s dressed in black.
Not in person – in paperback
Will she pose for me tonight?
I hold my breath, follow the light.
Through the haze all I can see
Are models strutting purposefully.
Then I spot her walking proud
The clothes she wears delight the crowds.
Her sultry eyes and jet-black hair
All I can do is sit and stare.
If I can get my timing right
Who knows, she could be mine tonight?
Out of reach, a designer’s dream
She's a peach, the catwalk queen.
We all desire but cannot touch.
My hearts on fire she means so much.
Her picture in the magazines
Leaps from the page into my dreams
Maybe one day she’ll be mine
Then we can leave this pantomime.
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