- Non-Erotic Poetry
- And He Waits
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And He Waits
He waits by the window on a cold crisp night
hoping to be blessed by her return
thinking to himself that she just might
wish to respond to passion's yearn.
He gazes gently beyond the gloom
as if entrenched in thought.
Then he paces across the empty room
and reviews the lesson that she has taught.
His head slowly tilts and bows to the floor.
She must know that she's become late.
Ancy by now he paces some more
but ever still hopeful he decides to wait.
He stretches deeply and toward the sky.
His arms are extended and with squinting eyes
he notices clouds are drifting by
and he exhales with a long long sigh.
The flowers are wilted and not so bright
but the fragrance still remains.
It seems contrary to this blue moon night
that something pleasant has been retained.
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