Her
mouth whispering in nearly silent accompaniment
Her
footsteps can be traced to a musical merriment
Where
they all create a dulcet symphony
Sanity
is not a choice for her as they make rhythm of her poetry
Among
all, he strums gently before he croons a song
She
sees those eyes outshining the throng
Love-sick,
as luck would have it, she can’t hold this racing feel
She
resigns to the restlessness that will follow the fortune’s wheel
How
profoundly little she knows about how he feels
Will
Venus get him to fall head over heels
Like
a wordsmith she could even charm her way out of a bullet so far
Speechless
though now, she stares at the night sky looking for a shooting star
She
has never paid court to anyone but him
Love-struck
follow no protocol but whim
His
melodies brighten her life aspiring trust eyes
Guilty
as charged he gave her butterflies
