(For Emily, my Muse)
He’s missing kissing you like fallen crumbs,
Or jigsaw pieces scattered on the floor.
His heart in syncopation rhythmic drums,
A pleading, aching, yearning hope for more.
But will your kissing ship go from her pier,
Without this weary passenger on board?
And should he hope for longer to hold dear,
The hope that someday soon your lips adored,
Releasing any tension that remains,
Will meet at last his own in gentle kiss.
Your doubts will scatter like the summer’s rain,
His life will closer be to one of bliss.
For now his hope lies resting at your door,
Should he still dare to hope the hope of more?
(28.11.23)
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