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Personal Note:

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Poem

Tall and willowy she stands
out from all the other women;
her face most expressive
when the choir sings a song.
"Out on the Mira, on warm afternoons..."
her voice blends so easily, 
a tone clear and strong.

I glance at her occasionally
noting with pleasure
the pleasure on her face;
singing with others
is her special place.

I stand and sing in the bass section
trying to follow the conductor's direction,
but, admittedly, I am distracted
by the long-legged alto
standing several feet away.
I want to engage with her...
not sure what I'll say.

During a break, 
I catch her eye by smiling...
her look is demure 
and so beguiling.
I try to be funny, 
to "be cool with the lines"
but then I stop myself; 
it's best to be genuine.

We converse with small talk,
I see her face brighten;
my own nervousness eases,
I feel my mood lighten.
She says her hands feel cold,
I say mine are quite warm.
I reach out to hold them,
a boyish attempt to charm.

She does not pull them away,
in fact, they relax.
We seem to have 
made a connection...perhaps.

My heart jumps, 
a feeling deep emerges 
so real, so true,
and then I smile and think 
"I'd love to fall 
in love with you."

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