2night, late,/
my prayers said,/
I laid sedate/
alone in my bed,/
and mulled and pondered/
things that she told,/
and again wondered/
if I was 2 bold,/
or just honest.

Can I ever b/
lovely?/
Or do i sit on friendly sidelines,/
until the time/
she enters the game again,/
and I,/
as her friend,/
finally see/
that lovely/
can never b/
me.

At night, together,/
we sleep deep. Yet as day dawns,/
arms are empty, still.

Superman/
doesn’t ride the bus,/
tho he can./
People stare, fuss,/
mouths agape,/
as he flies topless/
without his cape,/
and wonders if Wonder Woman/
will let him in.

In my pantry,/
closet,/
drawers/
r gifts:/
Some yummy,/
some funny,/
sum of time./
It’s a crime/
they waste/
my place space./
But gifts,/
like love,/
r no good/
when shoved.

Popcorn./
Quilt warm./
Your sofa and TV./
My funny DVD./
My hands; “those feet”./
White wine sweet./
Chocolate./
Let’s not wait./
8 oh 5 to 9:30./
U and me./
2day./
OK?

Thanks 4 the rhyme/
and the late-night talks./
Are you in the lead box/
today?/
Or away?/
If you wanna IM,/
ping and say!

I got her flowers/
after hours;/
put them by the door./
Who knows what 4./

No love’s red roses r there./
Just a spring bouquet/
on St. Pat’s Day/
2 tell her “I care.”

When “Blonde/Witty/Pretty” responded to the poem (previously posted), this was my response.
Awwww {Blush}/
It was fun!/
Thank U 4/
the inspiration!/
I hope on/
the hiarchy/
of meeting somebody/
it was not 2 4ward!/
Nor abssurd!/
Just a start/
2 touch yer heart.