It was on a Friday night,

she spoke to him

wondering

she said she waited there

just to know

to wonder

if maybe he ever,

or if he might now.

He wondered then,

in the quiet of a winter eve

could she hear him

feel him,

might she know

if in a silent beat

of some nostalgic moment,

would he

wait.

He chose to listen

to a song would bring him a tear

always a joyful cry,

he wanted her to know

the celebration of love

could only contain

the tenets of a cherished

mystique

~ finding my way, a personal journey ~