tagRomanceThe Lost Poem

The Lost Poem

byvictoriawhita©

Thank you to my anonymous editor

The paper lay on the grass next to the secluded park bench. It was folded in half. He picked it up without thinking. As he was about to throw it away he noticed a lipstick kiss on it. He couldn't resist opening it.

Had he intercepted a love note? The loneliness he found in the lines of the poem showed he hadn't.

"I don't know where he is.
I don't know what he looks like.
I don't know how we'll meet.
I know I'm waiting!
I know there's an empty spot for him to fill.
I know he'll call me beautiful!"


He wondered about the woman who had lost such a personal poem. Was she someone his age? Someone single and tired of watching love happen to all her friends but not to her? He knew just the feeling. Did she share her lonely feeling with others, or was it just on paper and kept private? What did she look like? She certainly aroused his curiosity.

It was already after 5 pm and he was on his way home from work. Maybe he could return earlier in the day tomorrow and see who showed up near the park bench. What were the chances that the author of the poem would show up just when he happened to be there? And how could he know who she was? He continued walking while he thought of the lonely poem.

David reflected on his life, seemingly ordinary on the outside. Nobody could tell from looking at him that he had health troubles. He'd been healthy until about 2 years ago when on the inside his body seemed to start falling apart. It wasn't anything deadly but it took a toll on his energy and he had to remember his vitamins and medicines every day. He worked all day and usually volunteered two evenings a week. He didn't have the time or energy left over for much except the feeling of loneliness.

As he walked he had an idea. Would she notice the poem was lost and return for it? He would write her a message to show that she wasn't alone in her loneliness and leave it for her…if she even returned at all. He returned to the park bench. He felt as if he'd revealed a part of himself when he wrote:

"I don't know where she is.
I don't know how she smiles.
I don't know what makes her eyes sparkle.
I know I am waiting.
I know my body aches for her!
I know she will make me tingle!"


He laid the paper on the park bench. He knew it would probably just blow away again, but at least the writing of the poem had changed the pace of his day returning home from work. He had voiced hopes he didn't often let himself believe in.

David walked the same path to work the next morning as he did returning from work. He chose this walk because it passed by a pond and made his life seem less hectic. He was watching for the park bench even though he didn't expect to see anything. He saw a child bouncing a ball from a sitting position on the bench. He approached and saw a shoelace tying a folded piece of paper onto the bench. That was unusual. He couldn't help but be drawn to it. He bent to read the sentence on the cover.

"To the friend who wrote the next verse of my poem." It wasn't possible that the author of the poem had indeed returned and had even written back to him? The boy on the bench didn't pay any attention to him so it obviously wasn't his. His heart skipped a beat as he untied the ribbon. Looking around him he unfolded the note…no kiss on the outside this time. The paper was damp from the dew and sagged between his fingers. He sat down to read it.

"Someone read my thoughts today.
After I lost my poem along the way.
Does his loneliness match my own?
Are these real emotions he's shown?

If you get this and care to write back I will look for your message later today between the two low branches of the oak tree behind this bench. My shoelace can tie it in place."


He sat down, flabbergasted. He was excited yet felt himself relaxing into the shape of the bench. He was certainly going to write back. Part of him wanted to pour out his heart and write and write. As he sat there, he imagined how refreshing it would be to pour it out on paper to a stranger. But he quickly realized that that would be a sure way to blow out the small sparks of a connection that he was having with this stranger. She was reaching out for a connection, and he would try to give it to her and maybe feel a connection himself.

He wanted to be alone and sat behind the tree on the grass as he wrote back:

"I never dreamed that you would really read,
The thoughts I sent off, thinking they would blow away like a seed.
My heart skipped a beat to think I'd connected with you.
I write to you so you know my loneliness is true.

I will return later and look in the same place for a note from you. I hope I can look forward to more messages and will look for something to place our notes in, in case of rain. I will also buy a string so you can have your shoelace back. I hope you haven't lost your shoe."


He tied it to the branch. Walking to work he looked at every woman wondering if she were the author of the note. David thought of the note throughout the day, and left work as early as he could.

He again watched every woman as he walked to the tree, but no one seemed to be watching for him. He pulled a note and the shoelace from the branch. She must have brought paper with her because it wasn't written on scrap paper, but on nice stationary. He wanted to be alone while he read it and answered it. He looked around and found a spot by the pond that was secluded.

He enjoyed what was becoming in his mind a letter, but was really no longer than most memos he received each day at work.

"Each time my shoe almost fell off I thought,
Of you and your friendship I'm starting to count on a lot.
Do you think it possible for two souls to meet,
To live each day and still feel passionate heat?"


He rejoiced as he read the poem. He was anxious to know more; to know this woman, to deepen this connection. He wanted to go deeper, but wasn't sure how. He felt restricted by the poem format but wanted to follow in the steps she had started. He thought for quite a while and wrote:

"I leave this next poem here with a prayer
To ask for more about you would be unfair
Day to day my hope for romance is deplete,
But reading your words makes the hope in my heart beat."


He slowly kissed the paper, placed the poem in a small jewelry box he had found in a small shop next to his office. It was wooden and decorated with an intricate design, but wasn't very costly. He laid the shoelace in the box as well and laid the box in the branch of the tree and tied it with a long ribbon, wrapping it twice to be sure nothing would happen to it. He had purposely chosen a brown ribbon to make it less noticeable to a passerby. He didn't think of looking around to see if anyone noticed his odd behavior. He already felt that the tree was 'theirs' and that he didn't need to explain his behavior to anyone.

He thought a lot about her during the evening, putting different faces on her, wondering mostly. He fixed his supper by rote, as his mind was on different things. He wondered what she'd eaten for supper. Would she like his apartment? He felt the need to clean it when he thought of that. He looked at his life through someone else's eyes and wondered how she would see it. He looked in the mirror, seeing a familiar face that surprisingly smiled back at him…something he didn't often see when alone. His dark hair needed a cut; maybe a new hairstyle would give him a new look.

The next day he took his own writing paper to the tree. He wanted to continue to keep her notes and read them again throughout the day, instead of responding on the same paper. His pace was quick and he left earlier than necessary, even to read and write a poem for his new friend. The words of the poem surprised him:

"I watched you yesterday as you wrote to me
Kissed my letter and placed it in the tree.
Single white female age twenty six
A Mexican restaurant would be my pick."


She had made the initiative to meet. She had seen him and still wanted to meet with him. It didn't seem possible. Why did today have to be his volunteer day? Now that she had started the ball rolling, he wanted to meet her as soon as possible.

"You've seen me and that feels unfair.
I'm glad it's more than just words we will share.
Chi-chi's restaurant on Dover Street at eight.
Tomorrow night could be our first date?"


This time he looked around, but figured she wasn't there. His mind filled with all the things he would do for this woman. Even if they didn't end up being soul mates, he wanted to make the evening special for her.

On his return from work, he stopped at the tree even though it wasn't on the way to his hair cut. There was only a single word this time, "YES!" He carefully surveyed the location, but when he saw several women around and none looking at him, he decided he preferred to wait for tomorrow to meet for the first time.

He wanted to arrive early but didn't know how to pick her out, so he arrived just on time, and hoped she would help him find her. He was surprised that no one approached him as he entered inside. After waiting a few minutes he told the hostess that he was meeting a friend. Before he even finished his sentence she handed him a note and said, "Could this be for you?" The cover read, "To my Poet Friend."

He smiled and said, "I don't think my poetry would impress anyone but I think the note is for me." Inside it said,

"I'm excited to meet you and hope we can still be,
Friends even after you meet me.
To back out now is too late,
Have the hostess take you to table eight."


He scanned the room wanting to see her before she had a chance to see him. He saw a beautiful woman sitting alone and confirmed with the hostess that her table was indeed table eight. He wasn't going to back out.

She was beautiful and wearing red, his favorite color. Her dark hair was loose and framed her face as she fingered her glass. He smiled as she pressed her lips together. As she took a sip of her drink, he noticed that she seemed to have chosen red wine. Was she as nervous as he?

He walked to the table alone and could see her face light up the moment she saw him. She spoke first as he approached, "I thought you'd change your mind and not come."

He replied, "It would have taken being run over by a freight train to keep me away."

She blushed and he liked it. He gave her the white rose he had brought for her, and she smelled it deeply.

"What is your name?" He asked after he sat down.

"Victoria. And yours?"

"David, David Terendon. I have to say this takes my breath away, finally meeting my poet friend and also finding out that she is so beautiful!"

She blushed but also didn't seem to really believe his comment as she brushed it off. He would have to find ways to convince her how attractive she was.

They talked about everything. He found out about her life. It seemed to match the beautiful person he saw on the outside. He was certainly surprised to find out that she shared his interest in giving to her community. He hadn't meant to talk about his health problems, but she was such a great listener he just let it spill out.

They even discussed the topic that had been the main topic of their poetry, their mutual loneliness.

Although he wasn't going to bring an end to their magical time in the restaurant together, he started letting himself imagine what he would like to have happen next. Now as his thoughts wandered to her body, she seemed to be headed the same direction because he felt her leg not just brush his leg, but purposefully rub his leg in an upward motion.

He stopped in mid-sentence. Her leg went up his slowly, then went down quickly. Up slowly, down quickly.

He asked in a hushed voice, "Do you know what you're doing to me?"

She replied, "No, but you can tell me." The movements didn't stop.

"Well...I...." he was too surprised to know how to respond.

She giggled, "We haven't had dessert yet."

He reached for her hand across the table. Finding his voice again he asked, "Do you want me for dessert?"

She stood up abruptly without saying anything, not letting go of his hand and motioned with her head towards the door. He was quick to stand…too quick as he bumped his knee on the table. He paid for dinner and once outside the door in the semi-darkness he whispered, "Can I kiss you?" She smiled and just nodded, and started to reach for him.

Their kiss showed promise of things yet to come, and made his toes tingle. They held hands as they strolled to his car. "I'd love for you to come to my place. Will you come?" He asked.

She said she felt better driving her own car there. She looked nervous and as he saw doubt flash across her face he kissed her again, wiping the doubt away. She followed him, and he was surprised the he hadn't scared her away by now.

He rubbed himself all he could while he drove and imagined that things would get heated quickly once they got to his place. He would try to be a gentleman, but her body and voice were playing games in his mind making him forget his own reservations.

They kissed outside the door; they kissed inside the door. She seemed ready and willing, and thoughts flashed through his mind of him pounding himself into her on his bed, of hearing her moan. No, he needed to slow down, he wanted it to be a special night. He wanted her to want to come back to him the next day, and the next day, and the day after that.

He took her hand and led her to the living room. She sat on the couch and watched his body move while he built a fire. His fire was building too. He was already exploring her body in the firelight. He realized that her thoughts were on him when she said, "I could enjoy this view better if you took off your shirt."

He took it off without looking at her, and continued blowing on the fire making the flames spring higher and shadows dance on his skin. His smile grew realizing she was leading the way to the place he wanted to go.

He knew he wanted to see her in his robe. He wanted to slowly slide it down her body, but he first returned to the couch and kissed her until he was dizzy.

When they started touching each other…feeling each other's body, he whispered, "Wait!" He arose and pulled her up off the couch, took her hand and led her to his bedroom.

Handing her his robe he whispered to the beautiful woman what had only been in his fantasies before. "My fantasy is for you to change into this, then let me slowly explore your body in front of the fire."

She blushed a little but surprised him by responding, "As long as we explore my fantasy another night." He kissed her deeply and as he left the room he felt like dancing and jumping and floating. She was a dream come true. He imagined there wasn't a happier man in the world, and the evening had just begun.

He imagined he wouldn't have long to gather the wine, glasses, candles, and honey, and found them quickly. He lit candles around the room, so they could find their way around and have the lights off. ```````````````````He was kneeling in front of the fire with two filled wine glasses when she returned. She raised her glass, and they toasted.

"To the wind," he said. When she looked confused he continued, "Because if the wind hadn't blown your poem away, we never would have met."

Her laugh again reached inside him and made him happy. They sat quietly drinking their wine both a little nervous about pleasing the other. David took her half-full wine glass and set it down beside his. He asked her to lie down on the thick rug in front of the fireplace. When she again hesitated he moved away from her. "What's wrong? Am I moving too quickly?"

She looked away and responded, "No, if it was my last boyfriend he wouldn't have been thoughtful enough to go this slow. It's been a while for me and I'm out of practice and don't want to disappoint you."

Dave wondered if she could really be as out of practice as he was, and so was quick to let her know, "You are beautiful, your words, your laugh, your smile, and your touch has been driving me crazy for you all evening. Even if we ended the evening here you have exceeded my expectations. Is that what we should do?"

She looked up at him half way through his sentence and he could see her relax as she said, "Where do I lie down?"

The robe was tied at her waist and covered her body but started falling open as she lay down. Had she done that on purpose? He would start with her feet. Dave warmed the lightly scented massage cream, creamed up his hands and picked up one of her feet. He wanted the massage to relax her, but he also wanted it to be very gentle and erotic. He traced light circles on her skin, then danced his fingers slowly across her feet and ankles.

She pulled out her hair clip and her long hair fell around her head making her look even sexier. As he kneeled beside her, and she reached for him and softly rubbed his knee. "You are such a tease. Am I going to get to tease you too?"

He almost groaned just from her words, but kept his thoughts focused on knowing her, pleasing her, touching her. He could think of other ways that would be quicker but not as satisfying. He shook his head, and moved his hands to the belt that had kept her body from his eyes. He slowly untied it.

He held her hand tightly as he opened the robe. His eyes were feasting on this woman who had charmed him first with her words, then with her smile and conversation, and who now stirred the deep physical pleasure he was feeling. His gaze roamed her body and he moaned loudly with pleasure. The firelight played over her skin drawing him to her.

His eyes returned to her face; and tears pooled in her eyes when he said, "I've never seen anything so beautiful."

She started to sit up and reach for him but he stopped her, "Not yet. I want to drive you crazy. This is what I call a Honey Lick. I'll take off my clothes for you, but we cannot touch each other. First, I drizzle honey onto five spots anywhere on your skin. Then I am allowed to touch you, but only with my tongue as I lick the honey from those spots. Secondly, I am allowed five more spots. When I've found those five spots, I am allowed to touch you with all of my body as I lick the honey. Finally on the last five spots, we both touch each other. That is if you don't drive me over the edge before that."

Just hearing him describe it increased her breathing and he was pleased to see her body reacting.

"Sounds like the most wonderful torture," she sighed, "I think the danger is my going over the edge not you."

"Maybe the danger is for both of us," his voice husky from his own arousal.

He couldn't help wondering if she was wet yet. Did her arousal match his own? He stood to finish undressing, self-conscious about his body. He wondered what she would think when she saw his body ready for her. He stood before her naked. His penis, already hard and erect for some time, popped up and he blushed.

Her eyes followed his movements and she licked her lips, which made him braver. He opened the jar of honey and knelt beside her. He knelt with the honey. The first and second drizzles were easy to choose, and he chose her two beautiful large breasts. Her reaction was immediate and now it was her turn to groan with pleasure.

He slid the robe off her shoulders so he could choose a spot on her neck, then on her thigh, then her ear. As soon as his tongue touched her breasts he felt her intake her breath and hold it. Her nipples hardened under his tongue. As his tongue sensuously removed the honey from her thigh, he could smell her scent. He wondered if she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She moaned as he slowly moved to her neck and ear…gently lapping the honey from her so-soft skin.

Finally…on to the second set of delicious drizzles. His hands shook as he anticipated touching this body that so entranced him. He dripped the honey on her belly button; and from her reaction as he got while he licked it and rubbed around it, he imagined this was a very sensual area for her. He drizzled honey on her other thigh, closer this time so he could smell her feminine aroma. He didn't hide his desire for her and got very close to her womanhood with his fingers. The next drop of honey on her foot made her toes curl.

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