The first time he saw her,
It was under the rain.
He hoped he would see her again,
And he did.
He couldn’t take his eyes of her,
The whole time, she was all he starred at,,
At a point he dashed his foot against a stone
Just to get an accurate glance at her,
Just one more time,
He was struck with silence,
The kind that only permits you to stare .
Without saying a word or making a sound,
He had never felt that way before,
He was dazed and all he thought about,
Was different pictures of her in his head.
It was her turn to shoot.
The movement of his eyes was in equal proportion,
To the movement of her body,
His eyes followed wherever she went,
She sat on a rock with a guitar,
Lying on her well molded laps as she tries to adjust
Herself properly.
She had a hat on, he can’t remember the color,
I guess he was more focused on how beautiful
She was well positioned on the rock.
She had a teddy bear just close to her chest.
She is a work of art
Molded by the greatest sculptor of all time, the best!
-A.O