Asking

 

Asking

 

Her slender form crosses the fading tiles,

That floor the lunchroom at the plant.

Will she fall prey to my masculine wiles,

And still maintain her elegance?

 

Cascading hair under fluorescent lights,

I long to see ‘neath the suns pure gleams,

But for now, I’ll see her most often at night,

As we run laughing through my dreams.

 

Has she found me?

Does she know me?

Will she show me the place where love begins?

Will she hear me?

Will she see me?

Will she have me?

Will she heal me?

Will she feel me leave the door open?

 

A gentle smile that lingers long,

In the deepness of her eyes.

A smile that whispers like a sylvan note,

To the depths of me where love lies.

 

Has she found me?

Does she know me?

Will she show me the place where love begins?

Will she hear me?

Will she see me?

Will she have me?

Will she heal me?

Will she feel me leave the door open?

 

 

Cliff Lake 3/22/1994

Copyright © Clifford Lake 1994

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

One Thousand Horsemen

The Edge

Used Up 'n Dried Up