The Suitor Poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

One hand knocks on a bolted door,
the other cradles his big dream
Hopeful he stands as a harbor waits
For a ship that wandered upstream
Minutes slowly drench the time
Till they mature into long hours
The rain its sadness in its prime
Surrenders and lavishly pours
The flowers he holds boldly resist
Their wilting spirit in sympathy
Not even the numbing coldness
Could keep the young man away

His feet are floating on the stale air,
His faith has hit the bored moon
The brown earth, so long ignored
Fenced out his poised gaits so soon
Cupid sadly shakes his pretty head,
He flies to where there’s little hope
He worries, in due course, someone
Will hang his despair from a rope
Oblivious, the man eagerly awaits
The musical sound of an opening door
But a girl inside made up her mind
He’ll writhe in pain from a heart-sore

(24 March 1989)