The Neighbor Boy
I was sixteen budding and fulfilling.
He was fifteen searching and awkward,
walking me home from a bus stop backwards,
carrying my bags, strutting a silly-grin valor.
What a sweet little braggart, trying to woo me.
Quiet and shy with his little trick, a smile
hesitantly grown, an innocent blossom of trust.
Twisted feet tripped, he stuttered, my heart gripped.
One week later still he walked me, holding my bag
sweetly and silently. I grew bold in his attention
our walks extended and moved for privacy.
Budding and grinning I tripped, fell, and he caught me.
I was seventeen and haughty and proud.
He was sixteen budding and promising...
Life fell apart as the world caved in around me,
exploding inwards I fell, and he caught me.
He has held me all these years never leaving.
A promise of trust and love unending
And still his quiet slow grin unbends
my heart and makes the world re-spin.
Copyright © Tara Jennings | Year Posted 2010
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