Are you ready. Let's get going. The party starts at eight.
Must she do this every time. She always makes us late.
The make-up, hair, the dress the eyes. There's always something more.
I drum my fingers, tap my toes. Just waiting by the door.
But then. She waltzes down the stairs. All lollypops and lace.
And smiles to win me over when she sees my angry face.
Oh how I miss her laughing eyes, her gentle loving arms.
For someone else is in them now, enjoying all her charms.
Now, when I long to touch her face or when my heart is pining.
I think. And then I realize each cloud has a silver lining.