Boot+Kitty=Poetry in motion
Since I love romance so much, I just had to post this poem again
She needs him and she wants him, she can have him now,
But she waits demurely, as he wonders with furrowed brow,
"Does this angel want me? Is this part of the dance?"
She'd be his forever if he'd the courage to take the chance.
He lifts his hand and brushes her hair off to one side,
As if it were an auburn curtain framing her azure eyes.
She lifts her gaze up to him, and lets her smile beguile
The boy inside the man, who's confused by selfdenials.
A teasing dance begins at the corners of her mouth,
As she tips her head coquettishly and lets her tongue dart out.
The invitation's sent, but he fails to read the news,
He simply gazes at her smile, doubting and confused.
She's told him in so many ways, in the language of romance,
That she is his to love and hold, if he'd join her in the dance.
But dancing requires a partner who will step out on the floor
And lead with measured grace though he's never led before.
She begins to wonder if the years had dimmed the lovely blush,
From the bloom of her youth that had graced her with its touch.
She's clearly announced to him that she awaits his arms,
Her every message punctuated by her feminine charms.
Women are wonderful dancers, swaying in perfect time,
We men are oft oblivious to the rhythm or the rhyme.
Women dance with passion because courtship is their soul,
While we stand by in childish fear of what we can't control.
The music is unmistakable for those who pause to hear,
But too often a lifetime love is lost from unacknowledged fears.
For it isn't in the message, but the medium in which its sent,
That dance's invitation may miss the one for whom its meant.
[This message has been edited by LngJhnAg (edited 01-07-2000).]