Irresolution
He hurries home late from the office
and hesitates out on the lawn,
the mist is swirling like her dress,
the moon is frowning down.
The music in her soft blue eyes,
that hungry look upon her face,
he trembles like a teenager
fumbling his first date.
Hoping she's gotten home safely,
beguiled by her lingering perfume,
his wife and kids are sound asleep,
he tiptoes through the family room.
Bedeviled by such fervent yearnings
full-compounded day by day,
a strangled heart, a tortured soul,
old love, new love - there is no easy way.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009
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