I toss her photograph
Out the bedroom window
To merely follow it down the street
To the place where the wind has blown it!

I’m a madman at dusk
Contemplating some haughty gesture
That she made
In contempt and disgust
While all the time
Maintaining her staggering allure!

A man could drown
In the dark beauty of her eyes.
A saint could turn thief
Or a scoundrel into a priest
Gazing with adoration
Upon the sandals on her feet!

Does she laugh at me?
There is no insult to receive.
Certain women occupy an exalted space within destiny
For which men can only accept with gratitude!

Uriah Hamilton

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/writing-her-name-as-it-rains-in-my-heart/