The Guy From Quebec
Beneath his coal-black forelocks, flirty eyes
kept meeting mine when I allowed my gaze
to fall on him. As if I were a prize,
he grinned at me. He'd put me in a daze!
When he approached, my heart began to pound.
He spoke so fluently, and his accent
was French! I'd never heard a sweeter sound.
He asked me on a date. Of course I went!
We chatted in a cafe as we ate.
Inside the core of me, a longing grew.
then as he drove me home, I could not wait
for what I knew would very soon ensue!
Once parked, he turned to me, eyes deep and tender,
and all that I could do was to surrender.
Dedicated to my indelible memory: Guy Loranger, wherever he may be.
Written Aug, 9, 2016 for
Becca Teagan's All I could do was surrender - Shakespearean Sonnet
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016
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