English poetry · from other blogs · hope · love

I’ll be there.

Chaos Subtitled

As she sat on the cold bench,

Her bare ankles crossing over each other.

The breeze teasing her brown tresses,

Which fall like a curtain over her face.

Her fingers invariably fiddling

With the white lace of her knee length dress.

She stares fixedly at the emerald pasture below

Lush and blooming, and she smiles at the contradiction.

Her immersion is perturbed,

As a pair of leather clad feet

Come forth, and pause.

Impeding her contemplation.

Startled she lift her eyes

To meet with the coal black orbs,

Beaming down undeviatingly at her.

Black and raven yet mild and amiable.

As she is diligently engrossed,

Deciphering the rationale

Behind his ingratiating smile,

A deuce of thumb and finger bobs up nd CLICK!

She rolls her eyes,

As he chuckles and perch next to her.

She resumes winding the white fabric round her pinky.

He sighs and loosens up his tie.

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