Non-Erotic PoetryAngel on Eight WheelsHer grace and beauty are evident, even in
blue jeans and on eight wheels.
My eyes and heart strain, always wanting
To know how she really feels.
As she skates hands in hand with her youngest
I feel my heart hold its beat.
My legs tremble, my mouth turns to cotton
When, for a moment, our two hands meet.
I had my first kiss on rolling skates
As a boy many years ago.
Once again all others around are meaningless.
How can she not know…
That in the midst of all the others,
Hers is the glance I can’t miss.
Gifts, cake, the chicken dance. All these cannot pull
My gaze from an angel such as this.
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