Musing, thinking, lost in wonder, he stares
At nothing in particular, but dares
To let the dream which dances through his mind
Come closer as the clock ticks, marking time.
Beside him sits a table robed in white,
Two knives, two forks, two plates are placed just right
And in their midst two candles stand unlit
As on he stares contented just to sit
A sweet aroma spills into the air
Escaping from a tasty love affair
And flutters on the whims of fantasy
Which set a soul meticulously free
To soar unbound by curiosity
Above the silence of an empty chair.
He does not stir, still lost in reverie,
But calms his nerves with effort mentally
He plans what he will say once she's arrived
With words pronounced that will not sound contrived.
"How do you do?" he thinks it best to start,
The host - he must control his pounding heart.
He takes her by the hand and leads the way,
"I hope you had the most exquisite day."
Each word, with the precision of a clock,
"Your beauty sends the poet into shock,"
Is practiced to perfection in his mind,
Still he forgets the staid hand, passing time.
As on his thoughts fly to a gorgeous scene
In which he sees her incandescent mien.
Her flawless skin that glistening defines
Each strand of hair that falls across her eyes
And trickles down her phosphorescent cheeks
To touch the lips that tongue cannot bespeak.
He contemplates, just then, what he should do,
How should he act, alone, with only two.
How should he touch her, if he should at all,
Or how to stand, why can he not recall?
Should he just smile and not say very much
To fill a silence words cannot quite touch,
But then how should he make it known to her
The feelings deep within that she doth stir...
Still musing, thinking, wondering, he stares
At nothing in particular, but dares
To let this dream which dances through his mind
Come closer as that clock which ticks, now chimes.
Copyright © 2008 by Layne Cockcroft
All Rights Reserved
