I Wait For Her

Tears of hoped for passions seep from my heart.

Lips tender succulent and caramel sweet Upon a bench I languish, for her to meet. Will she arrive, a craving hot wind at my side, Or must I shy away, like school boy must hide?

To stand firm in blind foolish hope Through adolescent vanity I must grope. My desire thunders, valiant in my frail youth Yet, in my dreams I rampage, a Man-God, forsooth.

A knight of unending ardor I pummel my steed But cower in day’s light, begging to be from mediocrity freed. Why must I sand with shaking hands, a leaf-like presence, Is this the chivilarous charm that is to win her essence?

I am weak and smolder, a dying ember of passion’s light, My passion paralyzed by immaturity’s fright. The bitter lines of wood beside me sneer in disdain As if thoughts of love had scorched them in timeless pain.

Standing, knees weak with spurned, mocked desire, I shuffle away as love dwindles on ineptitude’s fire. Another day I will rise replete with love’s intent, I’ll stand before her and proclaim love without relent.

Until that day her vision lives in me, a goddess of charm While I wither, shielding my heart from reality’s brutal harm.

Thanks for reading. Kevin