Saturday, April 20, 2013

To the gentleman to whom I gave half a poem

If, at objective observation, you are possessed of skills most rare
than that of which I'd hoped this presently to present,
this verse will be redundant.  Were you to be, improbably,  so Fair,
as, of such,  you seem, both capable and fond,
I for one would scarce believe it.  Having  overheard you well desir'd,
and with little else to do -- still, honestly, believe? 
That is, until --  that is, unless -- that is -- --- unsure. I look away,
reassess and put in context perspectives, yours and mine,
and the whispered opinions, giggling, solidify,
mature, then fade, in mere eyeglances of time
condemned at last, considered void, already moot,
"Not Because," -- it must be said -- "Not Because ..." of the unsaid
(but simply because everyone would have assumed you knew that you were cute).