Stung By Love
It was no longer a vague errand,
She was determined to accost him
She had overcome at last the dread
Of having to face her painful dilemma
With a vigorous jerk of her head
She shook off many a great doubt.
Never before had she undertaken
A task more intense or more onerous
But rather than await his conversion
(Which could take an eternity
In view of his embellished ego)
She plunged headlong to the challenge
She thought she had reconciled all things
Moral, intellectual and even romantic
And could now concentrate on the absorbing desire
Nay! On her instinctive consummate goal
Of finally casting off the deferential silence
And facing off with this idiot of a lover
Why would he not come out of the woods
Take her hand and tell her he loved her so?
She had coaxed her mind to cogitate an answer
And caused her brain to ex-cogitate a solution
This she had done with the dullest comprehension
For it was eminently unworthy of her classic grace.
But now at last it was done
Her errand was now a solemn mission
Out with the blundering alacrity!
Out with all the mysterious reticence!
She had come to take away her prize
His implacable stance notwithstanding!
But as she approached her destination
And rose to advance to the exit
She espied a figure, nay- the idiot lover
Seated many rows in front of her
He, too, was about to rise to alert the driver
Stung, she slumped back on her seat
And buried her head in her hands
Till the object of her love and dreams
Disembarked ... and hurried down the footpath
With shame and pangs of discomfiture
She waved the driver on... to some other place.
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