Stung By Love

It was no longer a vague errand, She was determined to accost him She had overcome at last the dread Of having to face her painful dilemma With a vigorous jerk of her head She shook off many a great doubt. Never before had she undertaken A task more intense or more onerous But rather than await his conversion (Which could take an eternity In view of his embellished ego) She plunged headlong to the challenge She thought she had reconciled all things Moral, intellectual and even romantic And could now concentrate on the absorbing desire Nay! On her instinctive consummate goal Of finally casting off the deferential silence And facing off with this idiot of a lover Why would he not come out of the woods Take her hand and tell her he loved her so? She had coaxed her mind to cogitate an answer And caused her brain to ex-cogitate a solution This she had done with the dullest comprehension For it was eminently unworthy of her classic grace. But now at last it was done Her errand was now a solemn mission Out with the blundering alacrity! Out with all the mysterious reticence! She had come to take away her prize His implacable stance notwithstanding! But as she approached her destination And rose to advance to the exit She espied a figure, nay- the idiot lover Seated many rows in front of her He, too, was about to rise to alert the driver Stung, she slumped back on her seat And buried her head in her hands Till the object of her love and dreams Disembarked ... and hurried down the footpath With shame and pangs of discomfiture She waved the driver on... to some other place.