Fata Morgana

Like a mirage. Get it?

A quick glimpse,
Are you really there?

I move closer,
You are unwavering;
I grow near,
Reaching out my hand to you;
Your form begins to shift
Drifting away, you are again out of reach.

Ripples form, and you are gone,
Beautiful fairy, never to be caught,
Devious enchantress, your memory lingers;
My longing soars.