Happiness looks so natural upon you,
when your eloquent face beams forth
as you intricately attempt to converse
with everyone that surrounds you.
So many expressions tuning into your
wavelength, eyes, lips that surrender to
You’re every sound.
Oh! Yes retarded lady, how content you
look in your world of simplicity, even
though I know not your name, I do care
and share in your moments of triumph,
when each word is tactically manoeuvered
after ensnaring yourself, enabling
mentally my will to aid your predicament,
knowing I’ll feel a fulfillment with
every effort you make.
And yet I still sense some animosity
towards you, indifferent folk trying to
climb into their safe world of self-
righteousness, while your impending
oration, reverberates against the walls
for all to hear.
© Harry J Horsman 1989
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