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Poem



The distracted lady
was a complete stranger,
with a pre-occupied finger
pressed to her gypsy lips
Choosing between two items
of indeterminate value
Which held more, I couldn’t tell
I only observed that she made the choice
with molasses deliberation ... 
slow and nearly imperceptible 
As if hearing an inner voice
amid the raucous merchant din,
she turned and looked directly at me,
as I peered straightly at her
Our eyes interlocked,
and a pathway to secrets seemed to hinge open
Not mine, but hers did with a dark murkiness
Her sad gaze desired not to know
what my heart held back in reserve
Yet, she smiled with graceful dignity
at my unabashedly virgin peek
into her chaste mystery
However, the sadness behind the smile
remained a veil 
through which I could not see
And in passing, she whispered this to me:
May we meet again ...
at a place of your own choosing, 
inside your dearest dream
Where we shall talk of many things
For to have a first there must be a last,
the second time is when fortunes are cast
Then in a future not yet seen,
should fate decide to intervene
And our two paths do cross again,
the secret of the sadness in my heart
I shall no longer keep hidden within
And the smile which now can be seen,
is a sign that shows  
I am privy to the ending of your dearest dream

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