There you are
looking at me
from your picture,
green bedroom eyes
and cutie pie smile,
open and sweet.
Would you blush
to know I think
you’re beautiful?
I’m a bit pink
from the telling.
Your hat
and you
look dandy
packed up and
infinitely ready
for whatever
adventures
draw you around
that next corner.
I can nearly feel
your hair
running through
my fingers
as my imagination
trips round the corner
dragging me
wildly along.
If I met you
I’m quite sure
I’d want to gently
touch your eyebrows
one at a time
caress your face,
kiss those eyes,
try on that hat.
If you were seated near,
open and looking,
I might
abandon
all
restraint
and boldly touch
before you’re ready
if ever you would be
for that particular
adventure.
My heart,
packed full of fool,
indulges in its own
secret adventure,
dreams up hope
from thin air,
and flutters in a way
it’s never done
for some boy
in a picture.
Looking back at you,
I smile and I see why.
How could it not?
~ cj 2011.12.30
