Jorma loved his wife, I bet.

In A Station Of The Metro
by Ezra Pound



The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.


and

Sonnet 20
by William Shakespeare



A woman's face with nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion,
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion.
An eye more bright than theirs, less false on rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till nature as she wrought the fell a-doting,
And by addition me of thee defeated
By adding one thing to my purpose nothing:
But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be thy love, and thy love's use their treasure.