some third party patience
to assuage it
and some schooled fan of truth
to resuscitate my batt'rees
A hand to clasp when I'm terrified
and a matching knack for many things.
And what a statuesque solution she is . .
and what a forward thinker.
With every passing moment further
reveals her inner figure.
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A vain and velvet peek,
thru cracked bedroom door
to see if I can't see her
shadows or even more.
Her simplest fleeting phrase becomes a poem to explore.
The way she looks at me's
like a vision I can't ignore.
To share time and space,
a brief closeness of her face,
is just like the softest
coat I ever wore . . .
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