Poem: Red String

It is I, nil to you,
pulled along a people sea
and yet to reach that sweet debut
since you seek that missing ‘he’.

Perhaps you’ve forgotten
whose hand you’ve clung to
Perhaps I’ve fallen
in love’s sweet revue.

“Go there, there’s my sweet,
come on fast,” said lass.
Off you go, my petite,
I’ll help myself, alas.

It is I, nil to you,
pushed ‘round by people sea
and yet to reach that sweet debut
Since you seek that missing ‘he’.

You loosened your gentle grip,
and never looked back.
Told myself “Don’t bite your lip,
As she’ll return, your little lilac.”

From a distance eyeing you both,
so cloudy my eyes were
as your boy made an oath.
Or was that my heart bitter?

It is I, nil to you,
out of that crowded people sea
and never to reach that sweet debut
Since you’ve found that missing ‘he’.

Your scent never ceased to linger,
so didn’t falter this heartfelt autumn.
I wanted most that I see you later,
but dog yips had to be kept mum.

That came in a long while;
I did not make out your return.
“Take my hand and I’ll
have you take me to a nearby Saturn.”

All composure retained,
This boy replied, “Of course,
a like request has been contained!”
My heart pumped fullest force.

It is I, in front of you,
this time with you who’s chirping in glee
and maybe to reach that sweet debut
I guess I’m your missing ‘he’.

8/19/08 10:19 PM