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 ~
