A delicate bloom
Waiting in vain
Wrapped ever so tightly in a cocoon
Carefully scanning the plain
For that which does not exist
Feigning coy and demure
A desire for a trist
Perfect and pure
Your candor is mute
Regarding your stance
So casual and astute
As you cast a sideways glance
The moment is implicit
When destiny shall unveil
That it is I who shall elicit
The beginning of your new world
Billy Thompson
© 9 August 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem