Four days and a bit;
over, the role of a
keen passive observer.
Amused by the glint of
recognition from beauties
in proximity;
and others - them cute,
unknown smiles.
This day, heartfelt comments
just flowed, patting the warrior,
a soft-spoken
boy from her land.
Oh, he smiled as I told
my tale with her.
Please do sit and recite,
the offered chair.
But my wish,
it remains unfulfilled;
a chance to feel that smile,
which caught me at the stands,
and pulled me to her lap,
where I lay
to write that song,
but unfinished! The angel flew.
And so will he,
lucky this young one,
he destined to be
so near that glow,
her hands of gold.
While I curse
my mortal arms,
take 'em and give me flight.
A fancy, nay a dream,
to touch her eyes,
and share a thought,
through the plain n honest
language of hearts,
and then to let her words
fill the blanks
of that unfinished song.
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