to the girl passing by
In these decent times when joy’s a nodding acquaintance,
moving over globes with my finger tips, my needs are few
in the passing fancy that life on the passing lane were only a passing whim.
I wander a whole mile shopping when in the twinkling of an eye
you, bewitching glance, with slowly streaming auburn hair and yellow skirt
smilingly plunge into my bleared sight, radiating a feeling of comfort
that there is consummate beauty even in the gloomiest world
and a possibility of affectionateness amidst the withdrawal of love.
I have nothing other to give up for you than dwelling on thoughts,
a lugubriousness touching sometimes lightly on my soul and
nothing better to give to you than love and the name Samantha
as a simple token of gratitude because god really has heard.
Setting the lonesome memory of your smile adrift so that tears wash it away
I swing around but the crush’s already immersed you, my momentary crush,
about whom I have the beautific sense that I have always known you;
a stuffy feeling that I have been searching exactly you all these years.
An acrimonious feeling that we met too late or too early is all I leave behind
in front of this newsagent’s where I enter to say hello to a friend while
a breathtaking aura vanishing tomorrow when sadness returns is all you leave behind
in the middle of the nowhere that was a somewhere for a lingering short moment.